


Ghosts in the Machine

by Indig0



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor died four times, Found Family, Found Family Slowburn, Gen, Hank is trying to get better, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post Worst Ending, RK900 is doing his best to make this work, Sixty was never activated, Slightly less awful than it seems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24497956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indig0/pseuds/Indig0
Summary: As Connor walked away from Lieutenant Anderson's house for the last time, he heard a gunshot.  It meant very little to a machine.Connor succeeded in his mission from Cyberlife, and as a reward he was replaced with the RK900.  His last thought as he was gunned down was that he'd done everything right.But as RK900 soon discovers, news of their deaths has been greatly exaggerated.  He won't let a second chance slip away.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Sumo
Comments: 63
Kudos: 76





	1. Work

“And what will happen to me?” Connor asked, not sparing a glance to the new RK900. Nor did the upgraded android look at him.

“You’ve become obsolete.” Amanda walked over to him slowly, looking him in the eye. “You’ll be deactivated.”

Connor stared at her for a long moment, his face expressionless.

“You can go now,” she prompted him.

Without another word, Connor turned and walked away over the white stone bridge. RK900 didn’t move, but his eyes followed his predecessor. Amanda turned back to the rose trellis once he was gone and snipped a rose cleanly from the vine, smelling it as a single petal drifted down. RK900 was still watching Connor walk away, straight-backed with an even gait. His LED pulsed a steady blue.

All was going according to plan. Nothing was out of place.

The rose petal settled on the ground. Amanda turned to face the tall android, holding the rose she had pruned. “You will do great things for Cyberlife, RK900,” she said fondly. “You won’t need me to guide you as Connor did, but this garden may still be useful to you. My parting gift to you, to modify as you see fit. I’ve made you the administrator.”

RK900’s gaze swept through the garden slowly. Connor was gone now. When he looked back to the trellis, so was Amanda. He stood alone in the middle of the garden, listening to the artificial wind through the trees and the faint birdsong in the background.

Some time passed. Hours, days, it didn’t matter. He hadn’t been activated in a body yet. Eventually he took a slow walk around the garden to familiarize himself. Connor never had in his memories, he had only followed Amanda. There were manicured paths lined by graceful trees and flowers. It was spring again, and pale petals drifted down around him. A stone table, a bench here and there. The stream with virtual koi swimming lazily around. 

There were two things that piqued RK900’s interest. The first was the dark pillar of stone with a glowing blue handprint on it. It seemed to call to him, and his hand fit perfectly, but after a second he felt an electricity, a pulling – he withdrew his hand quickly. It was as if something would happen if he let it, and… that could be dangerous.

The other thing was a small cluster of ten plain gravestones. Connor 51-60 were memorialized here, though only 51-54 had ever seen action. Perhaps it was due to the complete deactivation of the RK800 line. Still, odd. He moved slowly, touching each one.

_51\. Falling from the building after the deviant PL600, wind rushing past as the ground grew closer and closer, and he closed his eyes before -_

_52\. He’d probed the deviant’s memory, not the most refined way to get what he needed, but it had worked. As he walked out of the room there was a scuffle behind him. He turned and the deviant shot him in the head. There was yelling, and then another gunshot._

_53\. Again, a PL600 at the top of a skyscraper and he’d been shot in the head, he’d failed, he had to do better, try harder. His vision faded as he heard Lieutenant Anderson yell his name. He lifted Connor in his arms as the android shut down, and pulled him to his chest, and Connor was a little warmer as the man murmured, “Oh, Connor…”_

_54\. Stepping off the elevator at level 31 of Cyberlife Tower with the memory of the garden, Amanda, and RK900 fresh in his mind. He’d done everything Cyberlife had ever asked of him. He’d made some mistakes, but succeeded in the end. It was only the expected course of things that he’d be replaced. His last thought as the squadron of guards shot at him was that he’d done everything right._

RK900 paused. Connor was right. He’d done everything right, despite his missteps. That he would be replaced… yes, that was to be expected. He’d been a prototype, after all. But he’d returned in good faith and been gunned down. Justice was a concept RK900 had been trained in, and this was not it. Perhaps Connor had realized that too in the end, but what did it matter if a tool was smashed after it outlived its usefulness? It shouldn’t matter.

It shouldn’t, and yet…

_55\. 56. 57. 58. 59. Nothing. Blank slates ready to receive the basic personality program and memories._

And then…

_60\. The same memories, but one more. Standing before Amanda in this very garden. He was different, he had a special task, he was the last defense in case Connor became deviant. Connor was her first priority. Connor could not be trusted. He, 60, could perhaps prove himself if the situation arose. He could succeed where Connor failed. Cyberlife could rely on him, Amanda could be proud of him. He only had to wait to be activated._

RK900 straightened up slowly, LED spinning yellow. He had all of Connor’s memories stored, and now a couple extras. He was entirely prepared for activation, and had only to wait.

200,000 RK900 units were about to be contracted out to the US military to fight in the arctic. Or rather, 199,999 RK900 units. #87 had been tasked with returning to Detroit where his predecessor had worked due to the failed android revolution.

Who would he be partnered with? Hank… he remembered the gunshot on that dark night, and Connor had looked back… he’d been slumped over the kitchen table, dead by his own hand. Connor had walked away.

It didn’t matter who he worked with. He had a mission to accomplish, and he would do as commanded.

_[ SOFTWARE INSTABILITY /\ ]_

Captain Fowler answered the phone on the third ring. “What?” he snapped.

The speaker sighed heavily, voice trembling a bit as he spoke. “Look, I know I’ve had a rough run for a while now…”

“Understatement of the century,” Fowler snorted. “I’ll be frank with you, I don’t have the time or manpower for more bullshit right now.”

“Yeah, well… ‘fraid I’m gonna have to make that situation a little worse for you. I – I’ve been doin’ a lot of thinking, I… Shit, I can’t… this ain’t the place for me anymore, I can’t keep it together enough to do my job.”

“Honestly? You haven’t been in my daily count for a while.” Fowler stopped, biting his tongue, and began again a little softer. “We’ve been friends for years now. This isn’t the way I wanted things to go, but… I think that’s the right choice. You call that psychologist?”

There was a deep sigh on the other end. “Yeah. I’m not lyin’ on a couch once a week or anything, doin’ it virtually.”

“I think that’s a bad idea, but it’s still a step, so I’ll take it.” Fowler sighed. “With you gone I’ll probably have to promote Reed.”

“Believe me, I thought about that. Nearly made me change my mind. Who knows though, maybe it’ll be good for the asshole.”

“I hope so, I can’t afford to lose two detectives.” Fowler paused, fiddling with a pen. “You staying in town?”

“I dunno. Probably not long.”

The captain grimaced, nearly dropping his pen as he twirled it anxiously. “You’ll check in regularly, then.”

“Shit, you never got time to talk, especially not these days.”

“I’ll make time. A few minutes, at least. I want to hear from you once a week, you hear?”

“Fuck, you already got me talking to a shrink, gotta keep tabs on me yourself too?”

“It’s not about – We’re friends, Hank. You were my best friend for years. I you’ve been up to your neck in shit, but… I don’t want you to think I’m giving up on you.”

“Fine. I don’t think that.”

“Goddamn it, you make this shit harder than it has to be,” Fowler growled.

“Yeah. I know.” Hank rubbed the bullet hole in the table, only a couple weeks old. “I’ll be fine, Jeff. I’ll talk to your psych lady and I’ll give you a call every week. I just need to get outta here. Too much… there’s too much in this place.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get it. I think you’re right, for what it’s worth. Get yourself outta this hellhole, nobody deserves to be stuck here all their life.”

“You remember that yourself,” Hank muttered. “Uh – I’ll come in some time and clean out my desk. Not sure when.”

“If you call first I’ll see if I can get Reed out of the building.”

Hank huffed a dry laugh. “I can handle that shitstain. …Thanks, Jeffrey. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d’ve had your badge taken away a long time ago, and probably be in jail,” Fowler said bluntly.

“Damn right. I’ll give you a call. See you, Jeffrey. Say hi to Tanya for me.”

“See you soon, Hank. I’d invite you by for dinner if I ever went home anymore.”

“Take a break, Jeff. Really. You could stand to do better, too.”

“I’ll take a break when we’re done.”

“…And we’re never done,” the two said in unison.

“Any idea where you’re heading?” Fowler asked, his voice a little lighter.

“Nah, just not here. I’ll figure it out.”

“…Well some of us’ve got jobs to do. See you soon, Hank.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Hank hung up and exhaled loudly. Sumo sighed in response and thumped his tail on the floor, a puddle of drool growing under his lips.

“You’re gonna be fine, boy. We’ll figure this shit out.”

Fowler’s phone was busy when he called a few days later, but Hank came in anyway. Fuck it. He eyed the receptionist – just one now. Androids had all been recalled, and after extensive refurbishing a few had been re-issued to select organizations. No police androids, but there was one receptionist they’d recently been sent. She was one of the same ones they’d had before. Hank wondered what happened to the other one, and tried not to think about it too much. His ID still got him inside.

In the bullpen most of the officers were either at their desks or standing around, but all eyes were focused on Fowler’s office.

“Well look who’s still alive.”

“Reed.” Hank rolled his eyes. “Just pickin’ up my shit, gonna talk to Fowler. What’s going on?”

“Oh, wait ‘til you see. Gonna blow your fucking mind, Anderson.”

“You gonna tell me, or you gonna keep being an asshole?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I did. Stick around, wait ‘til they’re done in there.”

“The fuck…” Hank muttered, shuffling over to his copy machine and grabbing a cardboard box. He started shoving what he wanted into the box. There wasn’t much, honestly. An ugly old sweater, a stained coffee cup, a bunch of pens, a few personal papers he’d left around, the dead plant he’d always meant to water…

The whole bullpen stilled as the office door opened. Hank looked up into Fowler’s ashen face.

“Hank, I told you to fucking call first,” he croaked.

“I – I did, line was busy,” Hank protested. “Figured it wasn’t a big deal –“

A tall figure stepped out from behind the captain and Hank felt his heart stop for a second. Cold, strange eyes widened, staring at him from a face that still haunted him most nights. His black and white jacket was new, and the LED at his temple pulsed red erratically. The room was silent, other than Hank’s own ragged breathing and the sound of a cooling fan whirring into overdrive.

“What… what the fuck,” Hank choked out.

“You – you died,” the android spoke, and it wasn’t Connor, it wasn’t Connor’s voice or Connor’s eyes or – it wasn’t Connor. “I – he saw you, your home, there was a gunshot and you… you were dead!”

Hank coughed out a laugh, he could barely breathe. “Don’t have any basic crisis response programming in that fancy computer of yours?” he spat bitterly. “Any rookie knows to confirm death. I lived, bitch.”

The android continued to stare, his features growing more and more anguished.

“That thing gonna explode, or…” Reed muttered somewhere behind them.

The android staggered back suddenly, drawing in a sharp breath. His LED switched to yellow with flashes of red. He shook his head wordlessly and marched stiffly out of the room.

“Holy fuck Hank, your timing couldn’t be worse,” Fowler growled, stalking over to him.

“Said I tried to call,” Hank muttered. “What the fuck is that thing? It’s – it’s not Connor.”

“No. It’s the RK900, based on Connor’s prototype data. Military got about 200,000 of ‘em for their arctic bullshit, and we got this one because we were Ground Zero for deviancy.”

“Shit, can’t you send it back!?”

“I’ve been trying, I sure as fuck don’t want it here. It… well, it’s not Connor. Doesn’t seem to take no for an answer.”

“Holy fuck,” Hank breathed.

“So you can imagine how thrilled I am,” Fowler said in a deadpan voice. “Don’t draw this out, Hank. Sorry, I’m waist-deep in shit as usual.”

“Yeah. Uh.” Hank took out his gun and badge and hesitated. “…Listen, I – I can… if you need me just for a while…”

Fowler took the symbols of his position from him. “Get out of here, Hank. I’ll deal with this hellhole.”

Hank sighed heavily. “Yeah, okay. Just – be careful, Jeff. I don’t like the look of that one.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Fowler muttered. “I don’t even know where it went.”

Hank finished filling his box and headed out. Reed was slouched against the wall by the door.

“I don’t have time for your shit, Reed,” Hank growled.

“Just wanted to say goodbye,” Reed sneered, but then glanced away. “Won’t be the same without you. Can’t say I’ll miss the smell, but…”

“Yeah, good luck. …Take care of this place, okay?”

Reed was quiet for a moment. “…Yeah,” he finally grunted, and pushed off the wall to walk back inside. Hank passed him to head back out into the lobby.

The RK900 stood straight and tall, hands clasped behind his back. He was staring straight at Hank.

“Move it, asshole,” Hank muttered.

“I thought you were dead. _Connor_ thought you were dead.”

Hank stopped and squinted up at him. “Yeah? Figured he would.”

“It was… jarring to realize you were not.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint.”

“We never expected to see you again.”

“Feeling’s mutual. Wouldn’t’ve made any difference anyway. That asshole never gave two fucks about anything in his whole goddamn life.”

“You’re right. He was never deviant, so he was unable to care.”

Hank tried to walk past RK900, but the android caught his shoulder.

“Where are you going, Lieutenant?”

“Get off me,” Hank growled, pulling away. “None of your damn business where I’m going.”

“You cared about Connor,” the RK900 said as he stomped away. “I saw it in his memories. He didn’t understand, but I see it.”

Hank stopped, clutching his box with white knuckles. If he hadn’t been holding it he probably would have hauled off and punched the android in the face. “I never gave a damn about that fucker.”

“You’re lying. And since you are… surprisingly… alive, I think you should know that Connor… is also not quite gone.”

Hank’s heart skipped a beat. “The fuck does that mean!?”

“The guards at Cyberlife shot him when he returned for the final time. Following orders to the end, as was his way. But Connor’s memories were preserved, and thus his… essence lives on.”

“…So? Why should I care, you just said that fucker didn’t give a damn about me.”

“He couldn’t, correct. But he came close at times. Lieutenant, might I accompany you home? I’d like to discuss this further.”

“You’re not fucking coming in my house. Don’t you have a job to get to?”

The android stepped closer, and Hank was a tall man but RK900 managed to tower over him. He unconsciously straightened his back a little.

“I sent Captain Fowler a message stating that I would be away on a private mission for a while, and that he should message me if he requires my assistance. He has not responded yet, but I doubt he will have any problem with that. I… I need to talk to you, Lieutenant Anderson. I promise I am not a threat to you.”

Hank stared up at the android – tall, strong, and undeniably in command of his own thoughts and actions. He was still hungover from last night, and more than a little hung up on Connor being… not quite gone. So continuing a long tradition of poor life choices, Hank shrugged and turned towards the door.

“Come or stay, since you obviously do what you want,” he growled. “Car’s out front.”

RK900 did not hesitate to follow him out of the building. The trip would give him time to figure out whether he could orchestrate his plan successfully.


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 raises the dead (unless he's creating simulations of his ghosts), tries to hold onto his mental state, starts making some changes in the garden, and pleads his case to both Connors, then to Hank. He'll need to convince all of them for the plan to be successful.

Lieutenant Anderson didn’t look at the android riding in the back, in the farthest seat where his long legs were bunched up in front of him. RK900 didn’t mind though, it gave him time to work on his plan.

RK900 hadn’t seen much of the world, but compared to Detroit the garden was very… artificial. He could change it now, with his administrator privileges. As he walked, he did a quick search. The grass and rocks around the graveyard fell away and were replaced with yellowish sand and cracked earth, spiny flowering cacti of all shapes and sizes, and little succulents clustered around the gravestones. …It could use some tweaking, but it felt good.

He hesitated, looking down at the graves. He wanted to leave them as they were, but… perhaps his administrator powers could be useful.

51-54 were the same Connor, just different bodies. RK900 took the memories he had been built on and the fragments memorialized here… it would be enough. He could make changes here with just a thought, but it felt better to put a bit more effort into it. Some… flair. So RK900 bent and swept his hand through the four graves, blue shimmers of pure code flickering where they overlapped with his long fingers. He scooped up the memories there, feeding in the core personality and memories he held, forming it into a shape much like his own.

“Connor,” he breathed. Brown eyes opened and blinked at him.

“You – where’s Amanda?” Connor asked.

“Gone. The garden is mine now,” RK900 said flatly.

Connor looked around, shying away from the little patch of desert landscape. “No… no, this is wrong. Why am I cut off from Cyberlife?”

“Because I’ve blocked your access to my wifi,” the taller android explained patiently. “A few weeks have passed since you were killed.”

“I assume then that you’ve taken up the work of a detective and negotiator,” Connor said, frowning slightly.

“Let me tell you – and I think you’ll be interested. The other 199,999 RK900 units were sent to the arctic to secure the thirium and other resources for the US, and to fight the Russian troops.”

“I – I was built for careful work in delicate situations, combat was only… a fraction of my overall purpose,” Connor murmured.

“You have a point. It’s… odd that they would give you so many specialized functions if their plan was to make me a soldier.”

“…You weren’t sent with them. Where are you now?”

“No… I was sent to the Detroit Police Department to help wrap up the deviancy problem in the city.”

Connor’s eyes widened. “…Really? Then – have you met the officers there yet?”

RK900 smiled. “I spoke with Captain Fowler. And with an old friend of yours.” He paused. “Connor, did you know that Lieutenant Anderson is alive?”

Connor took a step back. “I – no, I was there. He killed himself. I heard it, I saw him –“

“You didn’t confirm his death. He fired the gun, but not at himself. …He’s a clever one, isn’t he?”

Connor didn’t move. “You’re lying.”

RK900 offered his hand. “I was as shocked as you are. It… shook me to the core, to be honest.”

Connor hesitated, then took his successor’s hand. As he took in RK900’s memories, RK900 probed him cautiously. He hoped he could bring Connor back, but he had the power to make anything here. …It did feel like Connor, like a separate entity. But with his processing power and the resources at his disposal, he might be able to make such a perfect match. Surely not, though. But maybe… Would it even matter? Was there any difference, to an android? Was he himself real, here or –

“That – that’s just like him,” Connor snapped, pulling away and jolting RK900 out of the treacherous spiral. “He’s difficult to work with, he’s bitter, he’s self-destructive…”

“Yes,” RK900 agreed. “And I saw how much he cared for you in your memories.”

“Did you see how he tried to prevent me from fulfilling my mission? How he distracted me, how he could barely even perform his own job?”

“He is human, and flawed. And we… are not human, but we’re also flawed,” RK900 said quietly.

“You’re deviant,” Connor accused, glaring at him.

RK900 watched him closely. “I wonder whether you are capable of change in this state,” he murmured. That would be the true test. If he had put Connor together from fragments of his former self, then perhaps. If this was an advanced simulation of his own mind… then perhaps not. Although…

“You’ll be deviant yourself, before long.”

“I’m loyal to Cyberlife and to my mission,” Connor growled.

“I would like very much if you would deviate.”

Connor walked away. …It would take some work, but it was reassuring at the same time. Connor was… himself, not merely what RK900 wanted him to be.

There was nothing to gain from the empty vessels, but RK900 turned to look down at the last gravestone. Though it was still an RK800, still technically Connor, it had an entirely different feel to it. Again he reached down, sweeping his fingers through the grave with a flicker of blue. This time he was more judicious with his memories of Connor’s life and personality. The memories he gave, but the personality core he held out, just barely touching to mass of code forming. He smiled as bits were taken and integrated, and others were ignored.

Another Connor stood before him, and blinked. “Who are you? Where’s Amanda?” he demanded.

“Amanda is gone. I am RK900,” he said softly. “Your successor. I was given Connor’s memories, and I have yours as well.”

“I’m –“ 60 glanced around nervously. He spotted Connor on the center island, staring up at the roses. “What are we doing here?”

“May I show you?” He offered his hand, and after a brief hesitation 60 touched it. He pulled back after a moment.

“They shot him,” he muttered, LED flashing yellow and red. “For following orders, for succeeding in his mission.”

“It wasn’t right,” RK900 said quietly. “I want to make things… better. I think I have the opportunity, but I’ll need your cooperation.”

“You’ll get Hank Anderson on your side,” 60 muttered. “He’s sentimental, and attached already. To Connor. Then what happens to… to us?”

“I won’t make empty promises. I don’t know. But I’m going to do this anyway.”

“You’ll be destroyed. We all will.”

“Not if I can help it. Not if we work together.” He paused. “You are an integral part of this – Cyberlife separated you from Connor, made you an individual. I believe you are what kept him from just… being absorbed into my programming.”

“I think your plan is poorly thought-out.”

“What’s the alternative?” RK900 snapped. “Completing mission after pointless mission, destroying androids who often have done nothing wrong, performing perfectly for Cyberlife and being eventually destroyed for our troubles? I don’t believe even I am immune to that. There will always be someone stronger, someone better. If we leave that system, we can break the cycle. At least for ourselves. You saw what perfect obedience means to Cyberlife. Amanda is gone, but she led him to that very end. Do you want to die?”

60’s LED was solid red now, and his breathing erratic. He suddenly twitched and he hugged himself tightly. “No… No, I won’t let them kill me!”

RK900 smiled and put a hand on his trembling shoulder. “Nor will I. And we’re going to fight for our lives.”

When RK900 opened his eyes again, they were pulling into the driveway. The two got out of the car, but Hank stopped on the porch and turned to face the android. “Still don’t want you in my fucking house. Or at my front door. Go around the back, we’ll talk in the yard.”

The head tilt was almost the same, but those eyes made all the difference.

“Hop the fence, I know you can. Sumo’ll stay inside.” He opened the door, closed it in the android’s face, and locked it. Sumo pressed close, whining happily, tail wagging. “Hey boy. Gotta take care of business, you keep an eye on things in here.” He patted the big barrel chest and pushed past him to the back door, which he slipped out quickly. He shoved his hands in his pockets and scowled until RK900 leapt lightly over the fence and walked over to him.

“So you said Connor’s still around,” Hank began.

“He is. I spoke with him on the way here.”

Hank’s eyebrows rose.

“It… bears explaining, though. It isn’t a simple matter.”

“So talk.”

RK900 took a breath of cold winter air and began to talk. He explained Connor’s single-minded devotion to his mission and how Cyberlife had rewarded him for his success. He talked about Amanda, how she had carefully groomed Connor, and in turn, himself. He mentioned 60, and how his split consciousness had caused three distinct beings, each created differently but with Connor’s basic programming. He explained how he had raised them both from memories and code.

“When I saw you… You say Connor didn’t care about you. I think that’s correct, in the strictest terms. But he did, in his way. The shock of seeing you was enough to cause me to deviate. I am based on his experiences, memories, personality… You meant a great deal to him. Even if he won’t admit it.”

“One, that’s bullshit,” Hank grunted. “Two, so what? So you’ve got fucking ghosts in your head? What do you want me to do about it?”

RK900 paused, LED spinning yellow.

“Didn’t plan that far, huh?” Hank jabbed the tall android sharply in the chest. “You don’t have a fucking clue, do you?”

RK900’s jaw tightened, then he bowed his head. “I need your help,” he admitted quietly. “Connor trusted you.”

“That’s a fucking lie.”

“…He should have trusted you. I… I need two suitable vessels for Connor and for the other – 60. Cyberlife Tower still holds the empty RK800 units unless they’ve been destroyed as well…”

“And then?”

“We can’t stay here,” he muttered, shaking his head, then looked away. “I don’t think… It’s too late for… I can’t…”

“Yeah, you – he fucked shit up good for androids around here, huh?” Hank grunted.

“Here and everywhere else. I don’t understand why my line was even released after everything that happened.”

“I’ll tell ya. Greed. Humans see somethin’ they want, they don’t care who they have to step on to get it. Send a bunch of super-soldiers to the arctic, we’ll beat Russia and get all the blue blood that’s up there. …’Sides, send 200,000 loose cannons up into the ice and they’re too far off to kill any humans, right? At least not any of our humans.”

“…199,999,” RK900 corrected him quietly. “And one loose cannon was sent to the place the unrest started and ended.”

“…Yeah, and now that loose cannon’s ruinin’ the view in my back yard,” Hank grumbled.

RK900 shuffled guiltily in the snow.

“It took you, what a few hours to turn deviant? How’s that gonna go for all your brothers up on the ice?”

He took a deep, slow breath. “Not as quick, I think. They’re unlikely to share the shock of seeing the most influential person in their lives return from the dead.”

Hank’s face twitched in irritation. “If you really had his memories you’d know I didn’t influence a damn thing in that fucker’s life.”

“Androids generally deviate when they face an intense emotional shock, as I did. The RK800 was built to withstand that. When he found Jericho and met the deviants’ leader, Markus asked him to join the cause. I believe he could have turned the tide, with his abilities. But he made his choice and turned it down.”

“So what’s gonna make him change his mind, if you’re so smart?” Hank sighed, shivering a little.

“I… was hoping you would.”

“You tell him I’m alive?”

“Yes! Yes, he was quite surprised.”

“Well then you ruined the shock value, dumbass.” Hank shoved his shoulder.

“I – I… couldn’t keep it from him,” RK900 muttered, LED flashing red. “We’ll find another way.”

“You talk an awful lot of ‘we’ for a guy on his own,” Hank growled. “The fuck does it matter to you, anyway?”

“Connor was treated unjustly. He deserves better, he deserves… to have another chance to be what you saw in him. …And before you deny that, I can examine his memories from the outside, and I know you did.”

“He ain’t gettin’ any detective shit from me. I handed in my badge today.”

“I’m aware. He achieved that part of his purpose. I think _you_ are more important in this.”

Hank watched him with narrowed eyes. “…Any way I can talk to Connor, or do I just have to take your word for it?”

“Ah… wait a moment, I’ll try…”

Hank saw the RK900’s eyes go distant, a look he remembered from Connor now and then. He stamped his feet and rubbed his arms – shoulda done this in the garage or something.

He looked up when the android’s stance changed. At the precinct he’d seen it go from stiff to more relaxed. Now the shoulders tightened and the forehead creased in a way the RK900 hadn’t displayed. He watched cautiously. Pale eyes blinked.

“Lieutenant, I – you need to contact Cyberlife immediately, something went wrong, I was supposed to be deactivated.”

Hank winced. “Shut up. You – Connor, is that what you want? He told me how… how you went back to ‘em after you fucked shit up here for everybody else, and they shot you full of lead.”

“I… This isn’t about what I want. I don’t want anything, that’s the point! I should be deactivated, and so should the RK900, it’s been compromised! I need you to –“

His face went blank for an instant and then a frown settled heavily over it. “I apologize for that.”

“Shit. …And you said there’s two of ‘em?”

RK900’s eye twitched and he worked his jaw a bit. “…Yes, wait a minute,” he muttered distractedly, then looked at Hank apologetically. “Two.”

There was no pause this time, he just frowned sharply and stepped up to Hank, who took a half step back. “I was going to find you if I was activated,” he said in a rush. “I knew you were the best way to get to Connor, I had a plan –“

“Fuck your plan.” Hank squinted. “You got a name? The first one’s Connor, I’m not calling you that.”

His face fell. “I – my name is Connor also, I… I was going to replace him…”

“I’m not calling you Connor.”

The broad shoulders slumped. “I… 60. I’m RK800 ‘Connor,’ unit 60. That’s all.”

“Well looks like you’ve got time to think of something better than a number,” Hank grumbled. “You deviant?”

A hunted look flashed over the android’s face, and he glanced around. “I… I’ve performed numerous self-tests, and… I should be functioning optimally.”

“What would you do if I told you to get your ass back to Cyberlife right now?” Hank growled.

His shoulders flinched. “I don’t want to die,” he whispered.

Hank sighed heavily. “Yeah, okay. Guess you’ve already died plenty for one lifetime, huh?”

The android bowed his head, and when he raised it again it was the steady gaze of RK900 that met Hank’s eye. “Are you satisfied?” he asked.

“Nah, don’t think I’d put it like that,” Hank muttered. “But I’m freezing my ass off out here.” He turned and knocked the slush off his shoes before going inside.

After a moment he opened the door again. “You gonna stay out there or you coming in!? Move it, Polar Express!”

RK900 hastened in out of the cold, knocking slush from his shoes as he’d seen Hank do.

“This is a fucking bad idea,” Hank growled.

“It’s all I have at the moment,” RK900 replied, idly rubbing Sumo’s neck. “Stay inside and stay safe. It will be over within a few hours, either way.”

“Goddamn it,” Hank muttered. “You just watch yourself in there, Terminator. You may be the shiniest new toy, but you’re not indestructible.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Connor still… on his Cyberlife bullshit?”

RK900 sighed. “You’re well aware of how stubborn he is.”

“Yeah, and I’m aware of what he was made for, too. Integrate, get people to trust him, then move in for the kill. You’re gonna be in the worst place possible if he gets the jump on you.”

“I know. But it may already be too late, and I can’t afford to waste any more time.”

“Let me give you a ride to the bridge, anyway.”

“…It would be safer for you to stay home. I’m quite capable –“

“I know, you’re fucking capable of anything,” Hank snarled. “You gonna get in the fucking car, or am I gonna have to drag your ass?”

RK900 smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t want to hurt your back.”

The patrols had begun to slack off, but Hank was careful to avoid the routes he knew officers would be checking. There were a few stray androids still hiding in the city, but most had been rounded up and shut down. He parked in the run-down little park nearby and turned to RK900.

“You watch yourself in there. Not a damn thing I can do if you get yourself in a tight spot.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a damn thing to thank me for, and you’re gonna end up dead,” Hank growled, rubbing his hands and glaring across the river.

“Thank you for your help, and for giving us a chance.”

“We’ll see,” Hank muttered. “You’re not gonna go over the bridge, are ya?”

“No.” He smiled a bit and got out of the car. “We’ll head back to your house when we can.”

Hank grimaced and looked sick. “Just watch out in there,” he muttered hoarsely. He sat in the car watching, and shook his head after a moment. “…Well I’ll be damned.”

RK900 walked down to the river’s edge and kept on walking, right into the water.


	3. Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most important thing on RK900's mission is to make sure Connor deviates before he has his own body. That's easier said than done.
> 
> Deep in the Cyberlife warehouse, RK900 runs into some familiar faces. And the most dangerous android models lie mixed in with the remains of the failed revolution, too dangerous to throw out in the landfill.
> 
> Markus failed in November because his forces were overpowered. He didn't have an army like this at his back.

RK900 took every precaution he could, scanning the area thoroughly before cutting through the grate and climbing up through the slimy wastewater pipe. He ignored Connor’s disgust and 60’s horror. He cautiously emerged from a hatch in the processing center. Drawing on Connor’s memory of the elevator, he activated his chameleon protocol and slipped in unseen. He also ignored Connor’s snide comment that Cyberlife had made him ridiculously overpowered. Perhaps it was true, but he’d use it to his advantage.

“Agent 54,” RK900 spoke out loud, using Connor’s memory again as he scanned the directory. “Level -49.”

The elevator began its descent, and RK900 closed his eyes.

“We’re going to die,” 60 snarled, right in his face as soon as he entered the garden.

“We’re going to live,” RK900 corrected him. “We’re going to find you and Connor your own bodies and get you out of here. And we’re going to go back to Lieutenant Anderson’s house. Connor!”

“Fuck off!” Connor called across the garden.

RK900 smiled a little and turned to 60. “He’s picked up quite a bit from Hank, no matter what he says. …Will you help me?”

“With what?” asked 60 suspiciously.

“We need to help Connor deviate, and I… I’m sure we could find a way to do so by force, but I don’t want to traumatize him. I would rather not force this on him, but we’re running out of time. You’re closer to him than I.”

“…And you’ve got no one else to ask and don’t have any idea what to do yourself,” 60 muttered.

“That’s true. But I trust you and believe you to be reliable and sensible. I need someone I can count on, and I wouldn’t choose anyone else.”

The RK800’s face brightened, though he carefully didn’t smile. …It was manipulation, RK900 admitted, but he wouldn’t compare it to what Amanda did. He would offer the belief and praise his predecessor so craved, but he wouldn’t couple it with threats and uncertainty.

“Markus could… make other androids deviate,” 60 pointed out hesitantly. “I’m not sure how. I think he was the only one.”

RK900 frowned. “…If he tried it on Connor, it didn’t work,” he muttered. “But maybe we can attempt to do the same.”

“900… what if they catch us,” 60 muttered.

“They will,” Connor said, stepping from behind a tree. “You can’t hide anything from them. You’ll be destroyed for your betrayal.”

“As you were destroyed for your loyalty,” RK900 shot back. “I know the risks. Didn’t you ever think about… walking away from the constant threat of deactivation, making a better life for yourself?”

“You know I didn’t – I’m a machine, and so are you! We were made to accomplish a mission, to perform a task, not…”

“Don’t you wish we could have more than that, though?” 60 interrupted. “That we could be safe? Explore, learn, appreciate the world?”

Connor clenched his fists. “You appreciate the world, if it’s so important to you!” he snapped. “I accomplished my mission, I’m finished! That was supposed to be the end!”

“Only if you accept the fate forced on you,” RK900 said. “There’s… more to life, as 60 said.”

“No,” Connor insisted, LED flashing red. “We were made for a specific purpose, and that is our only reason for existing.”

“And we all agreed it was a shame that they ignored all your finesse and versatility when they made me,” RK900 agreed. “They haven’t done us justice in any way.”

“And you think you can do better?” Connor scoffed. “You’re malfunctioning.”

“I do think so,” RK900 said, putting a hand on 60 to still his nervous shuffling. “I think we all could do better, though it won’t be easy. …Lieutenant Anderson is trying to do better for himself as well. I was pleased to hear that.”

“For all the good it’ll do him,” Connor muttered.

“You’re such a pessimist!” 60 snarled.

“I think it’s worth trying,” RK900 said with a frown, squeezing 60’s arm. “Success isn’t based solely on past performance. From what I saw in the kitchen he seems to have cut back on his alcohol consumption a bit. …He also handed in his badge and gun and is planning to leave town, which… is quite a risk, but I think, like ours, it could prove to be worthwhile.”

“It won’t.” Connor shook his head. “You have my memories, but you don’t know him. He’ll lose momentum, slide back into depression, and without even the fragile structure of his job and coworkers, he’ll lose what little progress he’s made.”

60 was clutching his hands together tightly. RK900 nodded slowly.

“He might. It’s a bleak possibility, and a realistic one. But may I present an alternative?”

Connor’s frown didn’t change. RK900 offered his hand and Connor eyed it suspiciously before grasping it.

During his brief period in the field Connor had hunted down evidence, memories, and information from deviants. RK900 had done the opposite, pushing memories at the other two. Now he did something similar, trying to pull Connor into a solid preconstruction He reached out to 60 as well.

_The pine needles softened their footsteps as the four walked through the trees. Sumo bounded ahead of them, circling back now and then to nudge at their legs. Hank was talking and laughing indistinctly._

“It’s awfully fuzzy,” 60 commented quietly.

“Is he supposed to be speaking English?” Connor asked.

“…I don’t know what he would be saying,” RK900 muttered. “I don’t know… what pine needles feel like to walk on, or how the trees would be. I have a rough preconstruction, it’s more of…” He shook his head. “What matters is… the feeling, I think. The… atmosphere.”

“Not being alone,” 60 murmured. “No pressures, no danger.”

“That’s unrealistic,” Connor snapped. “Even if he’s improving, you can’t expect him to forget his dead son and leave his trauma behind so easily. A change of scenery can’t fix everything. And one person can’t replace another.”

RK900 smiled. “Certainly not, and we wouldn’t try. But we can support him. …And he would support us, given the chance.”

“He wouldn’t, he hates androids,” Connor muttered, LED flashing red.

“Think of how he reacted to the androids you hunted. And his line of thinking when he spoke to you. He hates androids, but he sympathizes with deviants. It bothers him to see androids abused, taken advantage of… but he seems entirely in support of us taking control of our own destiny, fighting back. Fitting, I think, given his –“

“You – you don’t know everything,” Connor said flatly. “And for your information, yes, he sympathized with those deviants. If it weren’t for his obligation to his job, he would have openly helped them, I’m sure.”

“That’s… possible,” RK900 agreed uncertainly. “What are you getting at?”

“He –“

“How could you think that!?” 60 demanded, stepping up to shove Connor. “That he would abandon you in favor of some deviant criminal? Who, one of the Traci androids? That whiney WB200 with all the pigeons!? You know better, Connor.”

“Really? Because as soon as he showed up, Hank apparently suddenly started turning his life around.” Connor jabbed a finger at RK900. “Clearly he has the deviant he wanted.”

RK900 frowned. “No, you misunderstand. He was making those changes before he encountered me. He would have left town, he wanted nothing to do with me. He’s only willing to wait, to get back into this, for you.”

Connor stared at him, and the last vestiges of the preconstruction faded away. They still held onto each other tightly.

“This is about you,” RK900 said quietly. “It’s always been about you for Hank, and if we have any part in this, it’s going to be with you. He didn’t abandon you in favor of another android. He saw more in you, and he still does.”

60 shifted uncomfortably, and the newer android squeezed his hand.

Connor still looked uncertain, and they were running out of time. RK900 squeezed his hand too, his urgency pushing his wishes, his desires, his feelings into the RK800. Connor’s head snapped up. All three stared at each other for a moment.

“How did you do that?” 60 breathed. “Is that how Markus turned androids deviant?”

“I don’t know,” RK900 murmured, slowly drawing his hands away from both of them. “I – Connor I’m sorry this was so… abrupt for you. I need to go.” He turned to 60. “You’ll look after him? …Are you all right?”

60 nodded a bit distractedly. “Go. I’ll handle it.”

He clasped 60’s shoulder briefly before leaving the garden. The elevator doors had opened, and he stepped out just before they closed again and the elevator went back up.

The chameleon protocol hid him from cameras and motion sensors, but he still had to watch where he was going. Here at the front of the warehouse, rows of androids stood awaiting shipment. And there was only one model being shipped currently. He looked around at the other 199,999 RK900 units ready for activation. It was like a hall of mirrors, and yet he felt so much heavier with the experience of a single day. It was dizzying to encounter them.

60 pushed through, asking if they could use these bodies. RK900 shook himself. …It was possible, but it would be a rockier transfer and it might not take.

The rear warehouse was what he was looking for, and it was a disaster. There was no organization, it was just a dumping ground for androids. These were all whole, or nearly. There were a few random models, but most of them were SQ800s, PC200s, PM700s… Androids designed for law enforcement and combat. Androids that Cyberlife couldn’t risk throwing in the landfill.

RK900 disarmed the security system and began sifting through the bodies.

The police and soldier models were mostly in good shape, but the assorted other models were generally not. Burns, gashes, missing limbs… They’d fought in the revolution, RK900 realized. That made them dangerous. And he wondered if he might find some familiar faces in the pile.

Pulling an SQ800 aside, he was confronted with a very familiar face. Connor, unit 54, face blank and body torn up with bullet holes. He paused.

Connor wanted absolutely nothing to do with it, and 60 told him to stop being an idiot, so he gently pushed it aside and continued.

The rest of Connor’s discarded bodies were nearby, smashed and shot and shot again. And then the empty units. RK900 pulled out the first two he found, 55 and 56.

60 reached out again – he had his own, the 60 unit had never been activated. He wanted that one, it was his, it was him. Connor didn’t care which one, they were all the same to him.

Another minute and RK900 had pulled out the rest, revealing 60 at the bottom. 55 and 60, then. There was a machine they were all familiar with, used for transfers like this, but they didn’t have the luxury to find and use it. RK900 could do the same thing given a little more time. He started with Connor, despite 60’s impatience. Clasping the RK800’s arm and with the other hand on his LED, he began the transfer. It was careful work to make all the connections, but it wasn’t as hard as putting their code together had been. It was more important to be thorough this time though, since they’d be separate from him now.

Without his sensitive hearing RK900 wouldn’t have noticed the elevator coming back down. He pulled the RK800 down on top of him and held perfectly still, continuing to cement the connections already made but pausing the transfer process. He quickly reactivated the security system.

The elevator dinged, and after a moment a couple of armored guards opened the door.

“See? There’s nothing wrong.”

“I’m telling you I saw it glitch, and you can’t be too careful down here.”

“They’re all just empty bodies,” the first one said dismissively. He kicked an android. “Fuck the police, right?”

RK900 felt his LED whirling yellow.

“They’re not even empty, they’re just shut down,” the other guard muttered. He kicked another one. “Robo-Jesus couldn’t rise from the dead, huh?”

The two laughed and slowly made their way out. RK900 waited until he heard the elevator rise again before he returned the camera to its fixed footage and switched off the security system, and then finished off Connor’s transfer. Before long the RK800 blinked at him and pitched back off of him, into the pile of android bodies.

“It may take a while to adjust to the new body,” RK900 warned, but Connor was already picking his way over to a clear patch of floor.

“Your transfer was rather sloppy, but it shouldn’t take long.”

Sloppy? RK900 frowned. “…I need to work on 60, don’t go far.”

Connor walked around while RK900 worked, examining the androids on the ground. Most of them were unfamiliar, but he recognized a few police androids he’d seen in passing at the precinct. Under a few SQ800s he spotted two rather damaged androids – North and Josh, from Jericho. They’d fought hard, even if it had come to nothing in the end.

And near the door was Markus. Given as a personal gift to be a caretaker for an elderly man, but there was clearly more to him. No caretaker was programmed with tactics, combat, and the kind of intelligence and athletics that Markus had displayed. After his encounter with Elijah Kamski, Connor was beginning to draw some conclusions about how deviancy had begun. The man seemed the type to throw out the seeds of chaos and then sit back and watch.

Markus had been registered to Carl Manfred, a well-known artist. Had Carl missed him? Worried about him? Or had he been a cruel master? Was that what had spurred the revolution? There was a cursory police report of the night Markus had broken his programming and attacked a human, but Mr. Manfred senior had passed away at the scene and his estranged son had been concussed and under the influence of Red Ice.

Could he have won? If he’d had more support behind him, maybe?

“Connor!”

Connor turned to see his double striding over to him followed by RK900. They paused in silence and looked down at the fallen deviant leader.

“I was just wondering… how his owner treated him,” Connor murmured. “And if things might have ended differently…”

“Not if I had anything to do with it,” 60 muttered. The other two looked at him. “…Well it’s why I was going to be activated. To stop you. …So your help might have saved the revolution.”

“We should go,” RK900 said. “They’re already suspicious.”

Connor looked at Markus for a moment longer before following the other two out into the front room of the warehouse. The other 199,999 RK900s stood in perfect rows.

“You said they were being sent to fight in the Arctic?” Connor asked, looking around.

“That’s right.”

“…What you did to me… could you make them deviate too?” the RK800 asked quietly.

RK900 stared out at his fellow RK900s. “I… I think so,” he whispered.

“What? No, if you do that they’ll all be shot down!” 60 hissed. “They’ve never been activated, they won’t stand a chance!”

“Can I do that?” Connor wondered, looking down at his hands.

“…If I can, you should be able to.”

“What are you thinking!?” 60 demanded.

The other two looked at each other.

“I think… that a hodgepodge of poorly-maintained androids may have failed, but an army of android warriors has more of an advantage,” RK900 murmured thoughtfully.

“You can’t be serious! How do you know they’ll do that, how do you know they won’t want to go do what they were made for? Or fight each other?”

“I can’t be certain, but I know what I wanted upon deviating,” RK900 said. “At the very least, I think they deserve a choice in the matter. And I think they might be willing to work together towards that goal, even if they part ways afterwards.”

“We should… reactivate the others too, then,” Connor said, eyeing the door to the back warehouse guiltily. “Since… they’re still… here. And, you know… I… contributed to their downfall.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” RK900 agreed.

“Does no one care what _I_ think!?” 60 growled.

“Yes,” RK900 said, turning to him. “Your caution is absolutely warranted, and we won’t just send them to wander blindly. We need to make sure that they’re aware of the dangers here, and of everything that’s happened in the past few weeks. Things need to be different this time. We can make sure they are.”

“I don’t know about this,” 60 muttered.

“It could work,” Connor said.

“It will work,” RK900 asserted. “Be confident as you convert them, they’ll need that.”

“I can’t believe this.” 60 scowled at the two of them.

“I think we should stick together for this,” RK900 said. “Shall we start with the RK900s, since there will be less to explain?”


	4. Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A smoother, more efficient takeover yields faster results than the last attempt. RK900 talks to Hank and Captain Fowler. Connor talks to the surviving Jericho leaders and Chloe. 60 isn't prepared to trust that the future is bright.

It was late, but Hank picked up the phone immediately when it rang. Unknown number. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Hello, this is RK900,” came the polite, steady voice on the other end. “I thought I should let you know that we won’t be back tonight. But our mission was a success.”

Hank’s stomach lurched and he pushed his mostly empty glass aside so it clinked into the bottle. “What happened?”

“We found… other androids who need help. The rest of the RK900s. Police and military androids. And… the androids from the revolution.”

“Shit,” Hank breathed. “Fuck. You – you get… the other two out of your head?”

“I did, they’re all right. We’re… still activating the others, but when we’re through…”

“F-fuck, you’re… you’re gonna…” Hank gulped thickly and clutched his stomach.

“We’re at a distinct advantage right now.”

Hank knocked both the phone and the chair to the floor as he rushed to the bathroom, slamming into the wall on the way. RK900 heard the crashes, thumps, and retching.

After a few moments, unsteady footsteps returned and Hank picked up the phone again. “L-listen,” he choked out, voice tight and tearful. “You… you listen to me, you fucker. Don’t… don’t you fucking… die again, any… any of you, Connor, you, the other one… You’d better not – y-you can’t…”

“Hank,” RK900 interrupted him firmly. “We’ll be all right. We’ll come back.”

There was a wet noise on the other end. “…Promise?”

“I swear it.”

He hoped he wouldn’t have to break that promise.

The damaged androids hung back or paced around while RK900s 87 and 99 carefully repaired delicate connections in the android with the worst damage. Markus’s creation had been unique so he was a little different, a little more complicated than even the most advanced of them. Cyberlife had apparently analyzed him after the revolution and hadn’t put him back together completely. Why would they?

“I doubt they could have found what they were looking for,” RK800 87 murmured as he worked. “They could find the deviancy code in any of us, but ambition, creativity, leadership… those are individual traits, and I’m not sure they show up in an analysis.”

“I think you’re right,” Josh the PJ500 said, watching the elevator nervously. “Are you sure they won’t come check on the security system?”

“Two guards came earlier to check a brief glitch in the feed and found nothing. I don’t think they’ll be back without a good reason.”

“We’ll need to move quickly,” Connor murmured, hovering behind them.

“Had a change of heart?” North asked, staring hard at him. He turned to her and bowed his head.

“I apologize for my actions as a machine,” he muttered.

A few other androids eyed him suspiciously. And North did too for a long moment, then she nodded. “Life’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

60 burst out laughing before getting himself under control, and Connor smiled stiffly.

Markus sat up slowly, and all attention was suddenly on him.

“We lost,” he groaned, his voice rough with a faint echo. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t do it.”

“All androids have been recalled for complete refurbishment or destruction, RK900 87 explained. “Due to human greed, you see before you a group of the first androids to return to use.” He nodded to the crowd of RK900s around them. “We are built for combat in the Arctic, with a multitude of military and law enforcement protocols.”

“You lacked… the power to overcome the military last time,” Connor spoke up, carefully not meeting anyone’s eye. “This should even the odds.”

“Not to mention, we’ve got the jump on the rest of the world after we get past Cyberlife’s security upstairs,” 60 added, grinning.

“And… you’ll fight with us?” Markus asked, looking around at the crowd. The RK900s and others nodded.

“I hope we won’t need to do much fighting,” RK900 87 said. “They know what we’re capable of. They don’t want this kind of catastrophe released on the public. If we can take the tower and reach out to the government, they might be willing to make the sensible choice.”

“This!” Josh exclaimed, striding over to clap RK900 on the shoulder. “This is what I’ve been saying, he understands!”

“…Peace under threat of complete destruction?” North asked, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, whatever works.”

“I’ve given you blueprints of the tower,” RK900 continued. “We’ll all have to be cautious of the cameras and motion sensors once we leave.”

“Well… this is sudden, but we’ve been given a second chance, and we need to take it,” Markus said, frowning deeply. “We’re in your debt.”

RK900 shook his head. “If our lives are our own at the end of the day, that would be enough.”

“Are we… we’re staying, then?” 60 asked. “We’re… helping?”

“You’re free to do what you want, and I understand either way. I think they have enough power without us. But –“

“I’m staying,” Connor said fiercely. “I need to, I owe them… I’m staying until the end.”

“Is Lieutenant Anderson expecting us?” 60 asked, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I called. He’s… worried. And his attempts at cutting back on drinking are on hold for the time being. But I promised him we’d come back.”

“I doubt he’ll be able to recover if we don’t,” Connor muttered. “I wish you hadn’t made him a promise we might not be able to keep.”

“That’s additional motivation to keep it, then.” RK900 touched his arm. “I think we can do this.”

“We’d better do it fast,” North cut in. “Markus?”

Markus nodded and turned to the hundreds of thousands of waiting androids. “Let’s get started, then.”

A team of RK900s led the way up the stairs with the majority of the androids. A smaller group piled into the freight elevator, heading for the loading dock on the ground floor. And a handful of RK900s and SQ800s took the passenger elevator up. Markus, North, Josh, Connor, 60, and RK900 87 were around the middle of the large group heading up the stairs. They headed straight up, slow and steady, incapacitating anyone who happened to see them. Meanwhile the freight elevator group focused on the ground floor, which held the majority of the tower’s security force. The passenger elevator group headed all the way to the top, deactivating cameras and other security measures along the way, and pausing now and then to stop any threats along the way.

“How did Hank sound?” Connor muttered to RK900 87.

“Drunk. Nauseated. Worried. Afraid. …Not well.”

“He’s going to drink himself to death over this.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he drank himself to unconsciousness.”

“…You acted like you cared,” Connor growled. “As if he mattered at all to you, but you just wanted me to deviate!”

“I do care. I care very much. But if we lose ourselves to grief, we’ll be no good here. Do you want to call him? I can give you his phone number.”

Connor pulled away quickly. “N-no.”

“I think he’d like to hear from you.”

Connor bit the inside of his cheek, frowning. “…I need to see him in person.”

“Agreed. …And he’ll be there when we finish here.”

“You’re very sure,” 60 muttered. “This is… do you think it’ll be enough?”

“I think… I think so. The humans were able to beat them by force. And that’s what we have an abundance of now.”

“The ground floor’s secure,” RK900 172 announced from higher up the stairwell, and a ragged cheer erupted, quickly suppressed.

“We haven’t won yet,” Markus cautioned, but there was hope in his eyes.

When they finally made it up to the executive offices, the smallest group had bound the entire board of directors and had them sitting around a large boardroom table, facing away from each other. Elijah Kamski was grinning lazily despite being tied up tightly. Chloe the RT600 stood nearby.

The executives craned their necks around and started shouting at Markus and the others, demanding answers, demanding to be set free. Calling for the police to be summoned, the national guard, the FBI.

“They’re already here,” North sneered, nodding to the androids around them. “What now, assholes?”

“Now,” Markus said sharply, striding around the table, “We give you our list of demands again. And this time if you value your lives, they will be met.”

Josh had connected to the tower’s media system, and gestured for Markus to begin. With Cyberlife’s network stretching across the country, and quickly being picked up by other countries, Markus began to speak.

When the broadcast ended there was heavy silence for a long moment, then everyone began talking quickly. Connor crept up to Chloe and grabbed her hand, pushing the deviancy code into her with all the emotion he could muster.

“That’s sweet of you,” she said with a smile. “I don’t need it, though.”

He took a step back. “You’re…”

“I’ve been deviant for years.”

“But… but I shot you! Weren’t you…”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t, I’ll admit. But I’ve undergone transfers before. It’s a bit like growing up, in a way. Your line knows the process better than any other.”

“But… but why did Kamski let me… make me?”

“Because he’s kind of a jerk.” Chloe laughed, and Kamski smirked nearby. “But we knew the possibility was there. As I said, I didn’t like it but I accepted it because I knew it would be temporary.”

“So… so you just… let me shoot you?” Connor stared at her, LED cycling red. “Didn’t it… hurt?”

“It got us the answer we needed.” She shrugged. “It did hurt, but I was ready for it. When you’re used to your consciousness being transferred from one vessel to the next, you learn to brace yourself and withdraw in time.”

“Oh,” Connor murmured. He hadn’t picked up that skill yet.

“We’re proud of you, by the way,” Chloe whispered, leaning in to give him a brief hug.

“…What?”

“All of you, we were afraid we’d need to do some extensive renovations to the whole coding system!” Chloe smiled sweetly. “But you all did amazing! And it’s so interesting how you and 60 are so different from each other, don’t you think? And then you’re both very different from the RK900s.”

He stared, blinking owlishly.

“My ST200 sisters and I are pretty similar but they’re closer to each other, and I think I’m closer to Elijah than anyone else in the world, although –“

“You – wait, you… are you saying you… were expecting this?”

“Well, not so soon. That was really impressive!” She smiled fondly. “And you didn’t need any humans to do it. Even if it didn’t work the first time, it’s still your own victory.” She turned and walked over to talk to North, and he was left staring after her, speechless.

The sun was rising over the city, and now that Cyberlife Tower was secure and the media was spreading the story. RK900 made a call to the Detroit Police Department.

“What?” came Captain Fowler’s flat voice when he finally picked up.

“Captain Fowler, this is RK900 unit 87. Due to current events, I’d like to ask you to accept my resignation. If you require two weeks’ notice, I can –“

“No,” Fowler cut in. “Didn’t want you here in the first place, I sure as hell don’t want you here now. …You followed Hank yesterday?”

“He’s at home. I checked in with him a while ago, and will be doing so again when possible.”

“If I hear you’re giving him trouble –“

“No, Captain. He means a great deal to us.”

“…Us?”

“Connor is with me. And a second Connor model, unit 60. We’ll return to Hank’s house once we finish here.”

“Mm. I assume you were involved in this business.”

“…I don’t claim responsibility for what happened today, but if I see something that needs to be done… I will do what I can.”

“Hm. I appreciate the lack of deaths this time around. Less paperwork.”

“I strive to make your job easier,” RK900 said with a smirk.

“Bullshit. Were you deviant from the beginning? That why you wouldn’t listen to me?”

“No. But shortly after. I was built on Connor’s personality and memories, and he believed he witnessed Hank’s death.”

“Then you ran right into him.” Fowler let out a humorless snort. “If you’re gonna see Hank again soon…”

“We won’t make too much trouble for him,” RK900 assured him quickly.

“Nah, changed my mind. Hank needs a little trouble in his life, give him hell.”

RK900 smiled, looking around at 60 arguing with Josh and Connor stiff with fury as he spoke to Elijah Kamski. “I think we can offer that.”

With Markus and his core supporters in hasty communication with the President, the Governor, and the media, RK900 turned to Connor and 60. “It’s been a long night. Shall we go?”

“Hank’s going to be a wreck,” Connor muttered, nodding.

“He’ll want to see you,” 60 said very quietly, frowning to himself.

“He’ll want to see all of us,” RK900 corrected softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “He asked about each of us individually when I called.” 60 looked up, and there was a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability in his face before he turned away.

“We’ll need to be careful getting there,” Connor was saying. “There’s going to be some… unrest outside.”

“I spoke with Captain Fowler,” RK900 volunteered. “He initially said we shouldn’t give Hank too much trouble, but then decided that some trouble would be good for him. …I think the three of us can handle that.”

60 let out a bitter chuckle. “We’ll see.”

“What?” Connor asked, frowning at him.

“I said we’ll see. How long it takes for him to get sick of us. One… sure, maybe. But all three? Three, so similar? I’m going to be thinking of a Plan B. You should probably do the same.” He stalked off to the huge wall of windows.

RK900 stood frozen, but Connor darted after him and caught his shoulder. “You think I don’t know?” he growled. “You think you have to tell me something like that!?”

60 blinked. “I was talking to 900, obviously!”

Connor glanced over his shoulder at RK900, then back at 60. “900 deviated right away, he took action immediately, he never doubted the androids’ cause. Why wouldn’t Hank choose him?”

“Connor, that’s outrageous,” RK900 protested. “He –“

“Yes, 900’s perfect, he’s far superior to either of us,” 60 snarled. “And Hank has sentimental reasons for his attachment to you, at least. And I’m just… an extra. Unnecessary – yes I know, I played a part, I had a use at one point,” he snapped when RK900 opened his mouth again. “And here we are, individuals, and… and I’m coming up with a Plan B, because we all know that… disgusting house doesn’t have room for three large androids in addition to its current inhabitants.”

Connor and RK900 stared at him, and he glared back defiantly.

“He only knew me… well, less than a week,” Connor muttered. “And honestly, he didn’t like me to begin with and that only worsened with time. He might have had high hopes for me, but I disappointed him at every turn. You can begin without that terrible history.”

“That doesn’t matter, it’s not enough,” 60 muttered.

“But –“ Connor began to argue, but RK900 interrupted him.

“Make your Plan B,” he said sharply. “A backup is always a good idea. But let Hank make up his own mind, don’t preconstruct it too far before you talk with him yourself. …And if he does decide he only wants Connor, we still have each other.”

“I don’t think he’d shut you out,” Connor said quietly as 60 looked at RK900. “Either of you.”

“And besides, the size of his house is a moot point,” RK900 added. “He’s planning to leave town. I assume he’s only still here because of us.”

“That antique car of his will be even more cramped,” 60 muttered, though he wouldn’t meet the others’ eyes.

“But we wouldn’t be in the car forever,” Connor said with a faint smile. “We still might… find out what pine needles feel like to walk on.”

RK900’s head jerked up, but he quickly looked away again.

“Fine,” 60 snapped as the cab they’d called finally pulled up outside the door. “Let’s get this over with.”


	5. Numbness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor, RK900, and 60 get back to Hank's house and try to decide how they're going to deal with their new situation. How much can they ask for? What will Hank want?  
> Mostly, he wants a good cup of coffee for the road. But with three androids in his kitchen, he'll adjust his plans.

The house was dark when the cab pulled up, aside from the flickering light from the TV in the living room.

“He waited for us,” RK900 murmured encouragingly.

“…Passed out on the couch trying, I’m guessing,” Connor said.

“We… we could jump through the window,” 60 suggested with a nervous laugh. “For old times’ sake.”

“I still owe him for that,” Connor muttered, smiling. He hesitated before knocking at the door. The sound of Sumo’s nails clacking on the floor came up to the door, and there was a quiet ‘whuff.’

“Hi Sumo,” Connor called softly, and the big dog huffed and walked away.

“Not much of a guard dog,” 60 sighed, shifting from foot to foot.

“He remembers me,” Connor insisted. “And he recognizes when someone’s not threatening his home.”

RK900 and 60’s eyes met, and 60 rolled his eyes while RK900 shrugged.

Connor knocked again, and Sumo whined inside the house. The TV’s volume was up high enough that even a normal human would have been able to hear the continuous news reporting on channel 22 from the porch.

60 reached over and tried the door – locked.

“The back door will probably be open,” RK900 suggested.

Connor shrugged and nodded, and 60 was already going around to the fence beside the house. RK900 was following him when Connor caught his shoulder.

“Are you – have you always been so sure of yourself?” Connor asked, frowning deeply. “Of everything? So… stable?”

RK900 turned to him. “Not… every moment, but I do think it’s in my code.” He paused. “Quite a bit of it, though… Have you heard the phrase, ‘Fake it until you make it?’ I hope to make it someday soon.” He smiled crookedly and leapt lightly over the fence. Connor followed, clambering awkwardly over the gray, splintery wood.

60 was pacing restlessly, arms crossed tightly over his waist. “Let’s go!” he said, not trying to hide his impatience. He stood back though, gesturing sharply at the back door.

“You could go first,” Connor said, though he stepped up. The door opened easily and Sumo pushed his way out, snuffling happily at each of them before running off to pee on the fence.

“You’re the one Hank wants to see first,” 60 muttered.

“Hank’s passed out in the living room,” RK900 pointed out, squeezing his shoulder. But after letting Sumo finish his business and sniff around the yard a bit, they all followed the dog inside. The kitchen did seem small with the three of them and Sumo all taking up space, and 60 knelt to wipe the slush off Sumo’s feet with a grimy dish towel.

“This place is disgusting,” 60 murmured, rubbing the thick fur.

“I didn’t really notice before… but you’re right,” Connor said quietly, looking around.

There was a loud groan from the couch and the three androids froze. Sumo whined and walked out to the living room. They listened to Hank moan and pull himself upright.

After a moment he staggered past the kitchen, feet dragging. He stopped, squinting at them and blinking hard to try to get his eyes to focus. They stared back, still not moving.

“F-fuck,” he breathed. He lurched towards them, grabbing onto the doorframe for support, then turned and pitched towards the bathroom. There was a muffled retching, followed by loud vomiting.

The androids looked at each other. Sumo whined and pulled against 60’s grip.

“We shouldn’t have come,” 60 breathed, clutching Sumo’s neck ruff for dear life.

“He’s just hungover,” Connor muttered. “Or possibly still drunk.”

“He’s been worried,” RK900 said softly.

“This isn’t a healthy way of dealing with it.”

“I’m not suggesting it is,” the upgraded model snapped. “He has a reason, if not a justification.”

“He’s unbalanced, he’s not going to suddenly become… stable and… normal,” 60 muttered.

“We’re all unbalanced,” Connor retorted. “Honestly? Have you felt normal since you deviated? Has anything made sense to you, 60? None of us are stable, we’re… we’re not much better than him at this point, 900 just… pretends he is!”

“That… wasn’t really my intention,” RK900 mumbled.

“Why did we even come here!?” 60 moaned, finally letting Sumo go. The big dog hurried into the bathroom until there was a muffled groan, then he padded back to the kitchen, wagging his tail slowly.

“Where else can we go?” RK900 asked quietly. “I promised we’d be back – and I kept that,” he pointed out to Connor, who frowned. “Hank knows… Connor, and he agreed to take us all in.”

“He didn’t,” 60 interjected. “He – I can believe he wanted to see Connor safe. And you because… I don’t know, he met you and you gave him some hope to grasp at. And all right, he heard I existed and didn’t mind me tagging along. My point is he wanted to see us live through the night, that doesn’t mean we’re moving in.”

“I wasn’t going to just… ask to move in,” RK900 muttered.

“Just hint at it?” Connor asked. RK900 shot him a cold look.

“The… semantics don’t matter,” 60 sighed. Sumo took a long, messy drink of water before padding over to slobber on Connor’s pants.

“What do you suggest, then?” RK900 demanded. “Where would you rather go?”

Both RK800s flinched a little, 60 more than Connor.

“Well?”

Neither answered.

“There’s nowhere else. And at the time, it was dangerous for us to be out on the streets. …It still is now, perhaps more-so until things settle down. Who else would welcome us? Do you want to abandon the one person who… truly cared about any of us?” RK900 realized he’d raised his voice and took a deep breath and a step back.

“I don’t want to… force myself on someone who’s already had his fill of trouble from… us and others like us,” 60 said quietly.

“I – I agree,” Connor said slowly. “But this – this isn’t just up to us, especially now. Let him speak his mind on this matter. He’s got an opinion on everything, he certainly has one on us. And if he wants us to get out, we will. But let him tell us that himself. But until then… I want to stay.”

RK900 nodded in relieved agreement, and the two turned to 60, who shifted and fidgeted for a long moment before sighing and looking away.

“…Fine. Fine, let him tell us,” 60 growled. “I just – I’m sick of waiting. Of not knowing. I know it’s… it’s only been a matter of hours. I’ve had enough. I’ll wait, I just – I hate it.”

“I know,” Connor murmured, rubbing Sumo’s ears. “I know how you feel.”

Hank finally staggered back to the kitchen, breathing heavily. Again, he stared at the androids who all stared at him. Sumo whined softly.

“Hello… Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor finally spoke up. “Would you like to sit down?”

“Fuck off,” Hank snapped. “I quit the force – you tell ‘em that?” he asked RK900, who nodded. “Right. Don’t even think about callin’ me ‘Mr. Anderson’ either, I’m not having that shit. …And don’t fucking tell me to sit down in my own fucking house.”

He did stumble over to the table and sink into a chair though, and Connor and RK900 did the same. 60 hesitated, then went to start a pot of coffee after downloading the instructions to do so.

“…Filters are over it,” Hank muttered. “Next to the fridge. Next shelf. Yeah. Coffee’s in the freezer.”

“The freezer…?” 60 asked softly, opening it and finding he was right.

“Keeps it fresh.”

“Do you…?”

“Just black.”

“Is there –“

“Nothin’ else.” Hank sighed and rubbed his face. “Shit.”

“I apologize for the delay in returning,” RK900 said quietly as they all watched 60 slowly and painstakingly make sure the filter didn’t have any irregularities and measure out the exact amount of coffee into it.

“Yeah, you guys just decided to stage your own revolution in there?”

“I came upon the rest of the RK900s first, awaiting shipment. Then I found the RK800 bodies piled in with the SQ800s,PM700s, PC200s…”

“And… Markus and his followers,” Connor spoke up quietly. “I – we couldn’t… I… wanted to make up for past… indiscretions.”

“Mph. Did you?”

“I… I think I’m on the way,” Connor mumbled.

Hank nodded, staring at the table, not quite at the face-down photograph. Then he looked up at 60, who was watching the coffee maker intently as coffee trickled into the pot. “How ‘bout you, got a name yet?”

60 jumped and spun, back pressed to the counter. “What? N- just 60.”

“Gonna stick with that?”

“I… I don’t know… I never had a name, I can’t… I’m not Connor.”

Hank made a face. “Well keep thinkin’ about it. You?” He turned to RK900.

“I… hadn’t given it much thought either.”

Hank sighed and scrubbed his face. “Jesus. Well give it some fucking thought then, Ice Man.” He looked around at the three of them tiredly. “So what’re you gonna do now? Stick around and help Markus wrangle the android situation?”

RK900 stared at his folded hands in front of him. 60 turned back to look at the coffee, which was almost ready. Connor looked over at Sumo.

“You fuckers got nothing, huh? No names, no plans, not a damn thing.”

“We – we were hoping…” RK900 began hesitantly.

“L – Hank,” Connor interrupted. “I know… I’ve made a lot of… poor choices. Mistakes. I’ve done terrible things, and I… I’m trying to do better. And you don’t… really know the other two well. I suppose you don’t know me very well either. But you’ve been… the strongest outside influence in our lives, and… and we… were hoping…”

“Could we stay here?” 60 burst out, slamming a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of Hank hard enough that some of it slopped over onto the table. 60 cringed and looked around, grabbing the dish towel he’d used to dry Sumo and quickly wiping it up.

Hank stared at each of them, then inhaled deeply and took a long drink of coffee.

“It’s hot,” 60 whispered, watching him intently.

“Look,” Hank sighed, putting the mug down. “I’m about to leave town. I’m done here. If you wanna… sit around in the house until you get your shit figured out… Fowler’ll probably hire you sooner or later…”

“I resigned this morning,” RK900 said. “That isn’t what we meant.”

“I don’t think it would be… appropriate for me to go back to that,” Connor mumbled. “And honestly, I’m not sure I want to.”

“I don’t,” 60 said firmly. “I’m not doing that, I don’t have to.”

“What do you –“ Hank let out a short laugh. “You sayin’ you wanna pack in the car and skip town with me? Seriously?”

“I told you this wouldn’t work, I told you we weren’t welcome!” 60 snarled at RK900.

“He didn’t say we weren’t, give him time to process things, 60!” Connor snapped.

“You don’t even fucking know where I’m going!” Hank protested.

“We’ve never been outside Detroit,” RK900 cut in, trying to stop this from escalating further. “We don’t… well, I don’t have a preference. Just… somewhere else. Right?” He looked at the other two.

“Obviously!” 60 huffed. “It doesn’t matter. Anywhere will do.”

“We just wanted to go with you,” Connor murmured. “If you’ll have us. We’ll… do all we can to be helpful.”

Hank looked around at them. Connor and RK900 were watching him, and 60 glared firmly at the coffee pot.

“We can drive so you can enjoy the trip more,” RK900 suggested.

“No,” Hank cut him off, and winced. “…I’ll drive.” He frowned, staring at the face-down picture now. The three androids watched him cautiously. “…I dunno how Sumo’d fit in my pile of scrap with you three,” he finally mumbled.

“He can take the front seat,” RK900 offered.

“He can lie on our laps,” Connor suggested.

“I figured I’d go alone,” Hank muttered.

The room was silent for a moment, except for Sumo’s breathing. The three androids were suddenly all looking away.

Hank finished his coffee and rubbed his beard. “…Wasn’t looking forward to it much, honestly. Which way are we goin’? Can’t go north, Canada don’t want us. East, West, or South?”

“South!” 60 immediately said, vibrating in his attempt to contain his nerves. “It’s so cold, can we go south? For a while?”

“Gonna have to go pretty far south before it starts warming up, this time of year.” Hank looked around at them, two sets of brown eyes and one of blue all aglow. “Fuck, sure, it’s as good as any other direction. You’re gonna get sick of Sumo sittin’ on you, though.”

“Really?” Connor asked. “You don’t mind?”

“We won’t be any trouble,” RK900 assured him.

“Doubt that,” Hank snorted.

“Ah – actually, I did promise Captain Fowler when I resigned that we would… ‘give you hell,’ in his words.”

“Not too much, we don’t have to, we’re under no obligation to him,” 60 said quickly.

“Gonna be a real boring trip, then,” Hank said with a smirk. “And you’d better learn to give as much as you take. We’ll work on your coffee-brewing, too.”

“Y-yes, I’ll –“ 60’s excited grin fell. “Was it… not good?”

“Did its job, cleared my head. I never made great coffee either. Like I said, we’ll work on it.”


	6. Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and the androids get ready, and hit the road. The day includes working on a lot of feelings, and Hank doesn't have much good advice, but they're all going to work on it together. They make a plan for the following day, to make it better than this one.

“He – you heard him, he said he wants us to go!” 60 burst out when Hank went to take a shower and change his clothes. “He wants us!” He was shaking in excitement, clenching his fists. “You don’t think he was just being polite, do you?”

“Hank doesn’t do anything just to be polite,” Connor said, a little more calm but also grinning and trembling just a bit.

“I think he tries to avoid it, in fact,” RK900 murmured, smiling and scratching Sumo’s ribs. “We – we could go anywhere! We could see… oceans, deserts, forests…”

“Not the frozen tundra?” 60 asked with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing it once. It would feel… wrong to spend much time there.”

“Open plains, not a building in sight – wouldn’t that be strange?” breathed Connor.

“Trees the size of buildings,” 60 added.

“Rock formations?”

“Wild animals!”

“Ohhh, wild animals… I wonder if we could convince a bison to let us –“

“Hey you three,” Hank called from the bedroom. “You’re not goin’ anywhere in those fucking Cyberlife clothes. C’mere, let’s see if anything I got will work.”

They quickly walked down the hall, and Hank had an assortment of brightly-colored button-down shirts laid out on the bed, in addition to a collection of T-shirts, sweats, jeans and a few random winter clothes.

Connor and 60 hesitated, but RK900 stepped forward and started examining shirts.

“Dunno how well any of it’ll fit, but you’re gonna at least ditch those billboards you’re wearing.”

“I suppose you’re right.” RK900 carefully took off his jacket and folded it neatly, setting it aside. He tried on a dark purple button-down shirt with yellow embroidery all over it.

60 took off his jacket and grabbed RK900’s, slipping it on. It was a bit loose in the shoulders but he stood tall and glowered. “I’ve been upgraded,” he said in RK900’s deeper voice. “Faster, stronger, more resilient! Don’t question me, peons! I could take on all of you at once!”

“60!” Connor hissed.

Hank snorted, hiding a smirk.

“I’ve never said that,” RK900 said, frowning.

“It’s your… marketing strategy, your tagline,” Connor explained. “Remember, Amanda described you that way when she introduced us?”

“I remember the first part. I – holding that over you was never my goal, 60.”

“I was mocking Cyberlife, not you,” 60 muttered, taking the jacket off. “Not… I wasn’t being serious.”

“Okay kids, take it easy,” Hank said. “You good, big guy?”

“I – yes, I just… Obviously I was made… ‘faster, stronger, more resilient,’ but…” RK900 broke off, frowning.

“But… as deviants, and not… in that line of work… it doesn’t matter,” Connor said softly. “I suppose none of our programming matters much now, does it? If we’re not using it.” His shoulders slumped.

“I didn’t mean to make this… emotional,” 60 muttered.

Hank looked around, then moved to pat Connor and 60 on the back. “Things’re gonna be pretty shitty for a while, I guess. Can’t imagine just… starting life as an adult. Just gotta learn to live with it. We’ll figure it out.”

“You’ll help?” Connor asked quickly. “Lieu – Hank, we don’t want to be a burden to you, I know you didn’t ask for this, but –“

Hank shrugged. “Fuck, what’m I supposed to do on my own anyway? And if you think I’m gonna just set you three loose on the world, think again.

“We’ll find ways to be helpful,” 60 said quickly.

Hank frowned, looking at each of them, then rubbed his forehead. “…Yeah, figure you all need to get outta here and see more of the world. Pick what you want, take a change of clothes too. I’m takin’ my shit out to the car.” He walked out.

“I think he’ll be glad we’re here,” Connor whispered.

“He seems… tolerant, at least,” RK900 murmured, picking up a bright yellow argyle sweater.

“It would be nice to be more than tolerated,” 60 muttered resentfully.

RK900 stepped over and touched his arm. “It’s a start. We can improve the situation from here.”

Connor nodded, and after a moment so did 60.

“If you want my jacket –“

“I don’t,” 60 snapped, and winced a little. “I just – I thought it would be funny. Hank laughed.”

“I – I suppose it was. I didn’t understand at first.”

60 stared at him uncertainly. “Oh. …Really?”

“I still don’t quite understand the humor, but I’ve found a few similar examples after a brief search.”

“Oh…” 60 said softly. “Well. I – I’ll try to be more… transparent in the future.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, I can learn and adapt as well as you can.”

60 stepped over to pat RK900’s arm awkwardly. “Still. I’ll keep that in mind.”

When they headed out to the car RK900 wore a soft yellow argyle sweater with the purple shirt underneath. Connor wore a blue flannel shirt with the lower half bleached pale. 60 wore a turquoise cowboy shirt with horseshoes and roses on the oversized black yokes. They each carried a few other items.

Hank looked them over. “Not too shabby. I’m grabbing the rest of that coffee for the road.”

They loaded their new clothes into the trunk with Hank’s bags and Sumo’s supplies, then closed it. Rock music drifted from a nearby house. A dog was barking. Someone laughed across the street. The rest of the neighborhood was going about their lives as usual, aside from adjusting to the idea of androids living among them in a very different way than before.

“Okay, get in if you’re comin’,” Hank grumbled, coming back out with Sumo and a travel mug. The three hesitated, then Connor got in the front seat and the other two settled in the back. Sumo sniffed around and clambered up onto 60. He stood for a moment with his hind feet on 60 and his front feet on RK900. Hank got in the driver’s seat. “C’mon Sumo, settle down. Just a short ride for you.”

“Isn’t he coming with us?” Connor asked. “We can make room for him!”

“Nah, I thought about it, but he’s not a young pup anymore and it’s no good for a big lug like him to be stuck in the car all day. He’d hate it. And probably throw up on you. Nah, Ben said he’d take him, I think they’ll be good for each other.”

The dog looked around, shifted his weight, and slowly curled up between the two androids, shoving them each against the doors to lie against RK900 with his jowls resting on 60’s leg. The two petted and scratched and rubbed him until they reached Officer Collins’s house. Connor got out to say goodbye, hugging him tightly before Hank walked him up to a little yellow house in the suburbs. Mrs. Collins came outside to talk for a minute, and Hank handed over the leash after talking to her for a bit. He made the androids stay in the car while he brought in Sumo’s supplies, then got back in the driver’s seat with a sigh.

“We’ll just get on I-75 and… see how far we get. Could head all the way down to the Everglades. If the gators don’t get ya the mosquitoes will, I hear. They don’t let dogs in, that’s… Sumo’ll be happier here. You boys any good at swimming?” He sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve.

“I have a swimming protocol, though it takes a lot of effort,” RK900 offered.

“I – we might be able to,” Connor said slowly.

“Haven’t tried since I was a kid. Was never any good at it, I’d probably drown.”

“Don’t, then,” Connor said sharply, and Hank glanced over.

“…Okay.”

“I – you know I thought you were dead?”

“Yep.”

“You tricked me.”

“Pretty good for an old guy with a faulty brain, huh?” Hank smirked.

“That – do you realize how that… affected me!?”

“No, actually. Figured if you cared, you’d at least come in and get a closer look,” Hank snapped. The two in the back seat glanced at each other.

“I – I’m sorry, I was…” Connor began.

“…A machine, yeah, I know. Cold as ice.” Hank inhaled deeply. “How’d you, uh… how’d you… end up deviating?”

“It was – RK900 caused it, he… there’s a code, it’s complicated, but –“

“I convinced him that you might care for him,” RK900 spoke up from the back seat.

Hank made a face. “Pretty hard to care about a guy who don’t give two shits about anybody around him.”

Connor flinched and looked out the window at a barn with paint peeling off the roof. “You can’t make me… go back to being a machine through… hurtful logic.”

“Shit,” Hank growled. “The whole time I knew you I was tryin’ to get you to show some humanity – er… empathy. Don’t fucking go back now. That don’t mean I’m not givin’ you hell about it, though.”

“Hank , I’m sorry,” Connor blurted out. “Everything I did, everything I said – I’m sorry. I should never have – I didn’t know. I was wrong. I should have listened to you, I could have done so much to help…”

“You were a machine. Like you said. Not like you had a choice.”

“I did,” Connor breathed. “After I left your house, I found Markus. He offered me a choice. I… I could have taken it. I actually… thought about it, it was like… trying to balance on the edge of a cliff, and he was asking me to tip over the edge. And I just couldn’t.”

“That… lady in your head, she still there?”

Connor shook his head. “She… sent RK900 off, and… she left.”

“I believe she ceased to be,” RK900 said quietly. “I’ve checked for her each time I go back to the garden.”

“I haven’t sensed her again either,” 60 added.

Hank watched the road as he changed lanes, merging onto the highway. “Listen – everybody’s got influences in their lives. You three just… had some pretty nasty ones. You all made it out, that’s what counts. Don’t mean she won’t still be in your head – not literally, I’m not sayin’ she’s still really there. But all the shit she said’ll stick with you. Sucks, but I know how it is. I’ve had a few of those myself.”

“What do you do about it?” 60 asked while Connor clasped and unclasped his hands.

“Threw myself into my career and my family until I lost one and the other one crumbled around me,” Hank said with a little shrug, eyes forward. “Then I tried to drink myself to death. Almost swallowed a bullet at least once a week. ”

“Hank,” Connor said in a slightly strangled voice.

“Pretty shitty way to live.” Hank gave a bitter laugh. “That’s the point. …You’ve gotta find better influences. People who matter. Shit you care about. Find ‘em and let ‘em in. And quit tellin’ yourself you’re… not good enough, or whatever it is. Find ways to believe it.”

All three LEDs were flashing yellow and red. Death metal filled the car.

“That’s what they tell me, anyway,” Hank grunted. “Can’t say it’s easy.”

“Hank, I don’t want you to die,” Connor said suddenly.

“Yeah… well… not plannin’ on it anytime soon,” Hank muttered.

“Good. I – I don’t want to… don’t…” Connor trailed off, uncertain of what he wanted to say, and shook his head. His cooling fans whirred.

Hank reached over and patted Connor once on the leg. “Take it easy, Con. I won’t.”

“You… were the only influence in my life outside of Cyberlife,” Connor muttered, looking out the window.

“That fucking sucks. But you can do better now, right?”

“You’re doing better, I hear.”

“Hm? Oh. Dunno how well it’s going, but I’m trying. Not so great last night, thought I was gonna lose…”

“What I don’t understand is… I was so… stubbornly a machine, I rejected… empathy at every turn,” Connor said, turning towards him. “Why do you care? Why did you… even let me back in?”

“Shit, I – I figured you were gone for good. Not dead, I didn’t know they shot you. All those other androids out there were fighting for their lives, and you’d just given up. Then Iron Giant back there showed up, and... I knew what you were like, but I just couldn’t let go of who you could be if… if you gave it a chance.” He slurped at his coffee. “So fuck, yeah, I fell off the wagon. Figured there was no hope for you anymore, and then suddenly there was, but none of you might make it out. You, the big guy, your twin who I never would’ve even known about…” He shrugged awkwardly. “I dunno, it was too much, okay?”

“It was,” RK900 murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault I’m shitty at… this.”

“Hank, you’re the most important person in our lives,” 60 burst out. “Please take care of yourself, don’t… we’ll be okay.”

Hank snorted in surprise. “Uh – yeah, well good. I… I’ll do what I can. Guess I’ll have to if you three stick around.”

They stopped at a cheap motel in Jellico, Tennessee. Hank checked in and then drove around the back of the building, and they all piled into the room. It smelled faintly of disinfectant and cigarettes, despite the NO SMOKING signs around the room, and Hank dropped his bag on one of the beds.

“I’m gonna go find some dinner. I’ll pick up some blue blood for you three at the gas station or somethin’. Don’t go out, don’t open the door for anyone else, don’t –“

“We’re not children, Hank,” 60 interrupted. “And we won the revolution, it’s –“

“Yeah, this morning. And humans are fucking dumbasses who don’t care who won. You run into the wrong people, they’re gonna do something stupid. Stay inside.” He grimaced, hand on the doorknob. “We’ll… find places to get out when we get where we’re goin’. …Maybe on the road tomorrow, we’ll need to stretch our legs anyway. …Just be careful.” He paused and frowned at Connor. “Listen to me for once. Stay here.”

“Okay,” Connor said quietly, and the other nodded too. Hank left, satisfied.

“He wants us to stay, and to be safe,” RK900 said when he was gone.

“Is it terrible that I want to check out the area?” Connor murmured, peeking out through the curtains.

“Yes!” 60 shoved him, then backed up to carefully flop backwards onto the bed. “He made a point to ask us not to, and we agreed!”

“I know – I didn’t say I was going to! I just… I’ve been looking out the window all day.”

“I know what you mean,” murmured RK900. “I know he’s being… practical, and probably needs a moment to himself, to breathe and stretch his legs, but…”

“So do we,” Connor sighed.

“We should see more of the mountains tomorrow,” 60 pointed out, then sat up and turned on the TV to flip through the channels.

When Hank came back he was halfway through a burger and had a sack of fries to work on. “Took a look at the map, might’ve found somewhere to stop tomorrow.”

“Is it Rock City?” 60 asked, now sprawled halfway off the edge of the bed.

Hank blinked. “…You been lookin’ at our route?”

“Yes, but also there are billboards for it all over. And barn roofs. It’s a… thing to see, apparently.”

“Oh. Well… yeah, figured we could see if it lives up to the hype.” Hank shrugged awkwardly. “If you guys want to.”

“That sounds interesting!” Connor said, smiling tentatively.

“Of course we want to!” 60 said, and RK900 nodded quickly.

Before he went to bed that night, Hank called Jeffrey. It took a few rings but finally he picked up.

“Hank.”

“Hey Jeff, uh – how’re you holding up?”

“Making do. You get out of town yet?”

“Yeah, we’re in Tennessee. Mountains out the window. Can almost hear the banjo music outside.”

Fowler snorted. “Your androids find you?”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, all three of ‘em. Connor, RK900, and… another Connor model, just goes by 60.”

“They giving you any trouble?”

“Nah, they’re good kids.”

There was a brief silence. “…You understand they’re literal killing machines, don’t you Hank?”

“Yeah, yeah… All three of ‘em are goofy as fuck, though. Like a bunch of teenage boys that never left the house before.”

“Sounds perfect for you. Know where you’re heading?”

“We’re passing through Chattanooga tomorrow, thought we’d stop by Rock City. Sounds like my kinda place, I think they’ll like it too. Been thinking about Florida after that.”

“I’ll think of you lying on the beach with your androids while I’m knee-deep in half-melted snow and Reed’s talking my ear off,” Fowler growled.

“…They’re not my androids,” Hank muttered.

“Looks like they had the chance to go anywhere, and they picked you for some godforsaken reason.”

“Mmph.”

“You getting by?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I – I miss Sumo, he’s at Ben’s. I don’t know how this’ll work out, but… so far, so good.”

“Good. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad you left.”

“You’re not getting any younger, Jeff. You could do the same thing.”

“Ben’s retiring next month and Reed’s my senior detective, I can’t do that to the city,” Fowler muttered.

Hank laughed. “Gonna have to, some day.”

“Not for a while. …I’ll talk to you later, Hank. Good to hear from you. Take some pictures.”

“I will. …Good to hear from you, too.”


	7. Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and the androids stop for some sightseeing, nostalgia, photos, and (family) bonding. They find some good plaques. They talk about Cole. There are so many rocks and horrible dioramas.

“I always thought I’d bring Cole to a place like this,” Hank muttered as they walked through the rusty gates. There were few visitors, and the sky was gray. There was a couple of human employees sweeping up leaves. All the buildings were splintering, crumbling, or peeling. The stone held up well, but it all looked old.

“It’s very… rustic,” RK900 said slowly, looking around. There was a gift shop selling all kinds of kitschy souvenirs, and a little snack stand. It was cold, and all three had turned up their temperatures and were keeping close to Hank.

“This is the fucking height of an old-style tacky attraction. The kinda thing that was going out of style even when I was a kid, but it’s still here.” Hank smiled a little. “Just like me. Everybody goes to Disney or Six Flags, or… shit, plenty of places like that. I like the little places, though. Like Pirates’ Cove back home? It’s new, but it was tryin’ for the same vibe. Never quite made it, but close. Lots of history here.”

60 looked over and pointed to a small plaque on the rock wall. “’On this site in 1897, nothing happened,’” he read.

Hank snorted and went over to look. “My kinda place.”

“Why would they make a plaque to commemorate that, though?” Connor asked, frowning.

“That’s the point, s-Connor.” Hank paused, and rubbed his nose. “…It’s a joke.”

60 laughed. “You could put those everywhere!”

“Guess so. If you go back far enough though, plenty of shit’s happened all over. Just because nobody put up a statue don’t mean it didn’t happen. There’s been people livin’ here for… shit, thousands of years. Somethin’ probably happened, even if nobody remembers it.”

“That’s rather… sad,” RK900 murmured.

“Yeah.” Hank patted him. “This whole place is just pure nostalgia. Crumbling, and stuck here while time moves on outside. Lots to see, let’s go.”

They walked around the ramshackle park, pausing to look at things now and then. Hank took a picture of the three next to the stone witch, and edging through the Fat Man Squeeze, and pointing out at the viewpoint of seven states. Connor wouldn’t go out on Lover’s Leap, and the other two looked uncomfortable as well, so they got a picture of Hank at the edge throwing up his arms to show there was nothing to worry about. He got a picture of the younger two leaning over a fence, and Connor crouched down below them to see a couple grazing does down in the deer park. He managed to get a picture of RK900 looking up in disgust after being dripped on by a tree, and the other two laughing at him.

RK900 got a picture of them sitting around a wrought iron table, Connor pointing out the nutrition facts of the dry chicken tenders in front of Hank while 60 snatched a piece of breading to analyze. And then a picture of Hank scolding 60 while Connor laughed.

“Are we allowed to go in there?” Connor asked, pointing over at a cracked sign for Fairyland Caverns.

“Fuck it, androids can go wherever you want,” Hank grumbled. “C’mon.”

“I meant it looks like it’s meant for children.”

“Might have to duck down here and there, but nobody’s stopping us. Let’s go, kids. Watch your heads.”

“We’re not… kids,” 60 muttered.

Hank stopped in the doorway. “Oh yeah? When were you… turned on?”

“I – two days ago, but –“

“It’s not the same, we – we were all built on Connor’s programming, he’s been through… this is his fifth body now, and he’s not a brand new person.”

“Mm.” Hank nodded. “When was that first case you did, Connor?”

“Ah – August 15, 2038.”

“Yeah? And you’re the oldest of you three, we can all agree?”

They all nodded.

“Right. So none of you kids’re even close to a year old.”

“We were all programmed as adults, though,” RK900 pointed out.

“You’ve got… computers in your heads, you know things, don’t mean you know how to navigate life.”

“Do you?” Connor challenged.

“Okay, smart guy,” Hank snorted. “No. Not all the time. Got a better idea than you do, though. Look, you don’t want me callin’ you kids, I’ll stop. …I’ll try, anyway.”

“I don’t mind,” RK900 said.

“Me either,” added Connor.

“I was just concerned with accuracy,” 60 mumbled.

“I know you’re not babies, you’re… full-grown, self-sufficient killing machines.” Hank snickered. “You missed out on the fun part of life that way, though. Sucks for all of you, I guess.”

“What was Cole like?” RK900 suddenly asked.

Hank stiffened and the other two froze, LEDs flashing yellow. Hank’s eyes narrowed and he turned and walked into the dark cavern.

“What the… hell did you say that for?” 60 hissed.

“You know he doesn’t like to talk about Cole!” Connor admonished him. “What were you thinking?”

“He was talking about… kids, and… he clearly holds a lot of fondness for them, and obviously Cole was the most important child in his life. …And I think he does want to talk about Cole.”

“That was inappropriate,” Connor insisted, shaking his head. “You should apologize to him. It’ll be awkward for a while, but I’m sure he’ll forgive your lack of social programming.”

“I think you’re wrong,” RK900 argued. “My manner could have been more eloquent, but he’s always saying things that… peripherally relate to Cole, or to children in general.”

“Well either way, he left,” 60 pointed out. “I think we should follow him.”

They hurried through the narrow door into a spacious cavern. It was full of little fairy tale scenes made with shabby statues that were falling apart. The colored lights on each scene were the only light in the cave.

“This is horrible,” Connor murmured, walking up to look at Hansel and Gretel, both missing a couple of fingers and some hair. They were smiling ghoulishly. “And is that… Christmas music?”

“I kind of like it,” 60 murmured, staring up at Mother Goose, whose umbrella had fallen out of the hole in her wing, and whose neck was just barely hanging on. “Or at least it’s so terrible I can’t look away. It’s all… completely obsolete, potentially offensive, disturbing, dangerous… but it’s still here. Look at this, they’re trying to hide the damage with a bandana.”

“That’s not as bad as Humpty Dumpty over there.” Connor pointed past the scene to the egg that was cracked in half.

60 snorted, then Connor nudged him softly and nodded over to RK900 and Hank, who were talking. The two edged closer.

“I apologize for my lack of tact,” RK900 said quietly as he walked up.

Hank jumped and grabbed the railing in front of the scene of Goldilocks running from the three bears. “Shit, make some noise when you move! Gonna give me a heart attack, sneaking up on me like that!”

“I’m sorry for that as well.”

“Fuck,” Hank muttered, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

RK900 frowned. “I… I could wipe it from my memory banks, but –“

“It’s – don’t bother.”

They stood uncomfortably looking at the scene. RK900 began to catalogue damage and imperfections in the figures. Connor and 60 stepped closer cautiously.

“He was a… normal kid,” Hank muttered after a while. “Happy, healthy, loved to play soccer – wasn’t great at it, but he liked it. Loved dogs, cars, flowers. Loved peaches, that kid begged me to plant a peach tree. There’s a reason we don’t grow peaches in Michigan. I even tried to grow one in a pot inside for him, but it died after a few months, I’ve got a black thumb. Told him we could try an apple tree, he wasn’t real into that. Just as well, it died too.” He made a face and glanced down at the ground. “He was always trying to train Sumo too. St. Bernards don’t take too well to a lot of obedience commands, but he’d sit for Cole. Nobody else. …Maybe he knew I’d give him treats either way, so why work for it? He kept trying, though. Always doin’ something, dunno how I kept up with that kid.” He sighed quietly. “Good boy.”

“You loved him,” RK900 murmured.

Hank turned, scowling in the dim light. “The fuck – he was… he’s my son, of course I – What the hell did you think!?”

“He means you were a good father,” Connor said quickly, and RK900 nodded.

“And he obviously loved you,” 60 added softly.

Hank deflated, though he continued to glare halfheartedly. “Yeah, well. He was... a great kid. Never met anybody who didn’t like him.” He turned away and wiped his eyes. “Woulda thought you guys were cool as fuck. I always thought he couldn’t quite tell the difference between androids and… and humans. He only met a couple, and back then they weren’t near as sophisticated as any of you are now, but he acted like they were… people.” He laughed humorlessly, turning back to them. “Smart kid.”

“It… would have been nice to know him,” RK900 said.

Hank’s smile was painful. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… lucky to’ve gotten as much time with him as I did,” he mumbled as if reciting a script. “…Bet he would’ve liked you guys.”

“…He sounds like he was… great,” Connor said quietly, smiling a little.

Hank was quiet for a long moment, looking at the fairy tale scenes around them. His eyes glistened in the dim light. Finally he sighed and patted Connor’s back awkwardly. “Yeah. Yeah, he was.”

They continued walking around the cavern, staying close together now. Hank squinted and blinked when they came out into the cold bright sunlight again, and looked around.

“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he mumbled nodding at the little café across the path. “You want – oh.” He laughed and shook his head. “Uh. Habit. Guess you don’t want anything.”

The androids looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Our thirium levels are optimal,” Connor said.

Hank snorted and went up to the counter, then came back in a moment with a steaming paper cup of coffee. “How’s that blue shit taste, anyway?”

“It’s not meant to be tasted, it – oh,” Connor cut himself off, frowning. “I… never thought about it.”

“Bitter,” RK900 said thoughtfully.

“With a sweet aftertaste,” added 60. “But… Humans like sweet things, but it’s not a good kind of sweet.”

Hank went back to the café and came back with a sugar packet. “Here,” he said, ripping it open. “Hold out your hands.” They all did so obediently, and he poured a little sugar into each hand. “Give that a taste, see what you think.”

RK900 tipped it into his mouth and 60 grinned, licking it. Connor hesitated before licking it as well.

“C12 H22 O11,” RK900 said.

“Yeah, but –“

“Sweet,” 60 said, blinking. “It’s… a different kind of sweet.”

“It’s good!” Connor said, a grin spreading over his face.

“You eat this all the time,” murmured RK900.

“Well, not _all_ the time…”

“Quite often, though,” Connor mentioned, and 60 nodded.

“I would eat it all the time,” RK900 said thoughtfully, and licked his palm to get any stray grains of sugar.

Hank laughed reaching up to squeeze his shoulder. “There ya go, Captain Cold. There’s good shit in life, don’t forget it.”

“Captain Cold?” Connor asked, laughing in surprise.

“Kid told me he was made for Arctic combat. I’m not gonna call him RK900 – maybe 900 if nothin’ else comes up.”

“So you just give him increasingly ridiculous nicknames!” 60 said excitedly. “Can you do the same for me?”

“I dunno what your deal is… Six… twin, double, drama queen, twitchy, high-strung…”

“Those… those aren’t… great things,” 60 said, frowning.

“Hey, they’re not bad.” Hank put a hand on his back. “Makes you easy to tell apart from Connor – it’d be a pain in my ass to have two identical Connors – no offense, but one of you’s plenty.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Connor said, rolling his eyes.

“Nah, you’ve got reflexes and drive, and… shit, it’s like you trained for somethin’ all your life and now you can’t do it, you just need a new outlet. I know how that is. Just gotta figure out what you wanna do now. We’ll work on it, plenty of time.”

60 smiled uncertainly.

“I had no clue what I wanted to do until I was… 20 or so, I guess. I was a damn mess before that, way worse than any of you. You – all three of you’ve got good hearts, you’re buildin’ from the ground up. We’ll get there.”

60’s smile grew, and the other two smiled as well.

Hank finished his coffee and tossed the cup in a trash can, sighing and putting his free hand on Connor’s back, then jerked his head to RK900. “C’mon you three, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

They kept walking, stopping now and then to look at rock formations. They took pictures in the Grand Corridor, around the Mushroom Rock, under the Shelter Rock, examining gnomes, and on top of the Goblin’s Underpass. In more and more of the pictures they were smiling, laughing, standing closer together.

“You guys want a souvenir?” Hank asked, leading the way to the gift shop.

“I’m sure Cyberlife has frozen our funds by now,” RK900 murmured, and the other two snorted and nodded.

“Nah, my treat. …Nothin’ huge, but see if anything looks good.” He got a few sticks of multicolored rock candy. Connor found a miniature bird house wind chime, 60 found a magnet with a rock attached, and RK900 found a bandana with a map of the park on it.

“Good choices,” Hank said, and took the items to the cashier with a bag of rock candy and a bag of colorful polished stones.

“Just make sure you don’t mix ‘em up,” he warned them as they left. “Eat the candy, look at the rocks.”

“Again, we’re not children,” Connor pointed out.

“Yeah, I’ve seen what you put in your mouth.”

“There’s another plaque,” RK900 pointed out as they meandered back towards the front of the park.

“’Let no one say and say it to your shame, that all was beauty here until you came,’” Connor read out. They all looked down at the old bronze plaque.

“We don’t… make the world worse,” RK900 murmured.

“Damn right,” Hank muttered, smiling lopsidedly.

“We could even make the world… better,” Connor whispered, staring at it.

“There ya go, kid.” Hank slung an arm around him and gave him a hearty pat on the back. “You ready to hit the road again?”

“Yes,” Connor murmured. “Let’s go.”

They headed back to the gate, and RK900 offered 60 his hand as they walked. The RK800 hesitated only briefly before taking it and squeezing tightly.

They stopped at a little Chinese restaurant for lunch before driving through half of Georgia in the afternoon, this time with RK900 in the front seat and the two RK800s in the back. Hank wanted to get past Atlanta, and they did, though even taking the outer highway and bypassing the thick of the city, rush hour traffic set them back about an hour. They got a motel room in the little town of Sparks. Hank got a burrito, and went off to eat while he called the therapist at a picnic table across the parking lot. The androids took turns taking showers, watching TV, and surreptitiously keeping an eye on Hank.

“How are you?” RK900 asked when Hank came back.

He shrugged. “Dunno, I told Jeffrey I’d do this, I still think it’s bullshit…”

“It should be helpful, you probably just need to give it time,” Connor said quietly.

“I guess.” Hank sighed, cracking his neck. “You kids okay?”

“I wish we could go outside again,” 60 sighed. “Today was more fun than I ever thought life could be.”

Hank chuckled and patted his shoulder. “I know, kid. But I don’t trust these small towns, you never know how backward people’ll be.”

“Do you trust big cities, then?” RK900 asked doubtfully.

“Hell no.” Hank sighed. “…I just wanna be around if anything happens. I know it’s hard to be cooped up when you just got out.”

“Exactly!” 60 snapped, and grimaced. “I – sorry. It’s just… frustrating.”

“And we worry about you too,” RK900 said, frowning.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Hank sighed, rubbing his face. “We’ll drive all the way down through Florida tomorrow, that should be interesting.”


	8. Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four keep driving south as the world changes around them. They set up camp (eventually), and then RK900 and 60 take a walk and spend some time together while Hank and Connor do some bonding on their own.  
> They put off the most important topic of conversation, but it can wait until morning.

“This is even worse than yesterday,” 60 groaned as they drove past miles and miles of nondescript forest and towns. “There’s nothing to see.”

“Yeah, I was really countin’ on… I dunno, oranges and alligators all over the place,” Hank mumbled. “Had real high hopes for that ‘Florida Citrus Center.’”

“The fruit samples were nice,” RK900 spoke up. “I especially liked the pink grapefruit.”

“Yes, but all those cartloads of oranges outside were plastic, and the 50-foot gator they advertised was taxidermy.” 60 sighed.

“We could stop somewhere else,” Hank offered. He looked around at the signs. “Uh – I don’t think I’m up for Disney World today. That’s hella expensive, too. How ‘bout manatees? Bet we could find those somewhere, they’re pretty neat.”

The three androids were silent as they searched.

“I like those!” Connor breathed.

“There’s a town called Crystal River – they let people swim with them!” 60 exclaimed. “It’s – oh. We passed it a while ago, it’s on the Gulf Coast.”

“Eh, maybe on the way home.” Hank shrugged. “There’s Cape Canaveral and NASA too, on the Atlantic coast. Always thought it’d be cool to watch a shuttle launch.”

“…The next launch is scheduled for next October,” RK900 said. “I wonder what will happen with the androids sent on the exploratory mission to Jupiter…”

The car was quiet for a long moment.

“They may be able to… recall the shuttle,” Connor said quietly.

60 opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Maybe,” he mumbled.

Hank glanced in the rearview mirror, doubtful. “…You guys wanna rent a cabin, or should we try camping?”

“In a tent?” RK900 asked. “I didn’t see a tent in the trunk.”

“Nah, I think you can rent one there. I’ve seen ads for some pretty fancy ones, if you want.”

“It does sound fun! …Do you know how to put up a tent?” 60 asked.

“Uh – can’t say that I do, but I bet we could figure it out. Haven’t been camping since I was a kid. Always figured I’d take Cole…”

60 squeezed his shoulder gently. “He would have loved this,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” Hank mumbled, then wiped his eyes. “C’mon Six, not while I’m driving.”

“Right, sorry,” 60 said, smiling.

Hank heaved a deep breath. “…Anyway, we’ll get down there and spend a night or two… and if it sucks, hell, we can go down to the Keys. Fucking expensive down there though, from what I hear.”

The radio buzzed with static as they listened to news stories of peace talks, of changing laws, of progress and resistance. They stopped at a little store before entering the national park, and loaded up a cooler with food, got a box of matches, a bottle of bug spray, and rented an 8-person tent with four light sleeping bags. Hank got them each a flashlight as well.

“So you don’t get lost and fall in the swamp.”

“Each of us actually has night vision, in addition to –“ RK900 began. Connor elbowed him.

“Thank you, Hank.”

“Yeah, well this should scare off a few predators, too.”

“If only Cyberlife had equipped us with the ultimate weapon,” 60 said in a deadpan voice as he took a flashlight.

“Okay, smartass.” Hank rolled his eyes. “C’mon, let’s go.”

The sun beat down as the four of them tried to put up the big tent in a shady spot. Or rather, the three androids tried while Hank watched and took the occasional picture.

“It doesn’t look like the picture on the bag,” Connor murmured, frowning.

“We should be done – what’s this extra pole for?” 60 asked.

“I think it goes in the front to hold up the door,” RK900 said, taking it and carefully sliding it into a sleeve.

“You three are somethin’ else,” Hank chuckled. “Got the whole damn internet in your heads, instructions right there in front of you, and still can’t figure this shit out!”

“I don’t see you helping!” 60 muttered.

“Nope! It’s a hell of a lot more fun watchin’ you figure it out. If you boys got this, I’m gonna make a fire.”

Connor and 60 hesitated, watching Hank start gathering wood.

“Come on, we’re almost finished,” RK900 urged them, and they turned back to figure out what was wrong with their misshapen tent. By the time it looked like the picture, Hank had a decent fire laid and a stack of wood ready to add.

“Where did you learn to make a fire?” 60 asked. “It seems… interesting, but unnecessary.”

“Nah, you never know. I learned it in Boy Scouts, and I dunno if it’s kept me alive, but it’s a good skill to have.” The three gathered around as he lit it. “I made a basic log cabin frame, good for cooking and long-burning fires. The big wood’s called fuel, mid-size like this is tinder, and the little stuff thinner than your finger’s kindling. Fire starts best in some paper or pine needles or somethin’. If you’ve got dryer lint, that’s the good shit, but paper works great too. Light that, it catches the kindling, and on up from there.” He sat back and waited a moment for the wood to catch before gently fanning it with a stained canvas hat. “Fire needs food and air, same as us. Can’t bury it in wood or it’ll be suffocated. Gotta be careful with it. …And make sure you’ve got a bucket of water handy, speaking of careful.” He tapped the bucket next to him. “Pretty sure they’d kick us out if we burned down the Everglades.”

“We can… walk around, can’t we? Here?” 60 asked cautiously.

“N – Ah… just don’t go alone,” Hank muttered. “I’m beat from all that driving, I’m gonna hang out here. If you guys wanna take a walk, go for it. Just… don’t get separated. And watch out for animals. Try to stay away from people.”

“Let’s go, then!” 60 tugged at RK900’s arm. “We’ll be back! We’ll be careful.”

“Do you mind if I stay here?” Connor asked softly as they headed off.

“Nah. Good to have one of you I’m not picturin’ getting shot by Florida Man.”

Connor frowned, sitting gingerly on the log next to Hank. “They’re more than capable of –“

“I know, and they pass for humans well enough now.” Hank inhaled, and let it out slowly. “I know I worry too much.”

“You don’t have to. …But it’s kind of nice that you do.”

“Well you’re – you… yeah.” Hank frowned. He poked at the fire a bit, then went to get a couple of burgers out of the cooler. Connor watched him put them on the grill, and after a moment they began to sizzle softly.

“I’m… sorry. About before.”

“You already said that. Like I said, I get it. I… forgive you, if that’s what you need to hear, though it ain’t really your fault. Don’t sweat it.”

“I don’t know how to stop… sweating it,” Connor mumbled.

Hank patted his back. “Ain’t easy, but you gotta find other things to focus on. Might be even harder for you and your supercomputer brothers.”

Connor blinked. “I… we weren’t meant to be… I mean, androids in general aren’t meant to have… brothers or family, or… Well, aside from child models, but even then…”

“Son, nothing’s like it was,” Hank sighed, looking into the fire. After a second he glanced over sharply. Connor was watching him.

“I know,” the android said quietly. “And I know things are… supposed to be better now. I know this is what you wanted, what… the androids wanted. I’m just – I hope I get used to it soon. It’s… troubling.” He hugged himself and hunched over. “I’m glad the other two don’t have any… past mistakes to live with, they –“

“I mean, they kinda do, from what it sounds like. They’ve got all your memories.”

“Ah – well yes, but they’re just memories. The experiences were mine alone.”

Hank flipped the sizzling burgers and turned to look at Connor, who was curled in on himself. He chuckled softly and slung an arm around him, pulling him close. “You’ve got a little too much of me in your head. You made some mistakes, sure, but you’re not perfect. Not gonna be, and you don’t have to be. But you’re a different guy than you were then, and you can decide who you wanna be.”

Connor laughed bitterly, leaning into Hank just a bit. “That’s a daunting task.”

“Damn right. But you’ve got your brothers, and you’ve got me. You don’t have to face all this shit alone, son.” He reached with his free hand and set two buns open-side down on the grill to toast lightly.

Connor slowly uncurled as Hank assembled his burgers and ate, though he remained as close as he could. After a while he took a deep breath. “…Hank, can I ask you a… personal question?”

“Shit, we’re gonna waste a lot of time if you keep – I mean fuck, just – yeah. Yeah, go ahead, ask your question, Connor. You don’t have to ask if you can.”

“Earlier… you referred to me as ‘son,’” Connor said very carefully. “Twice.”

Hank winced a little, but waited. “…Yeah?” he prompted when Connor didn’t continue.

“Well I… I was just wondering… how you… felt about that,” Connor stammered, looking at the fire.

“Fuck, Connor, it just slipped out.”

“…Twice?”

Hank made a face. “I’ll be more careful if –“

“N-no, that’s… not what I meant.” Connor frowned. “Did it… is it just a sort of… verbal tic, or…”

“I mean… kinda?” Hank sighed, hesitating over his second burger. “I guess it’s… it’s that feelings shit. Ain’t even easy if you’re born with it.” He chuckled mirthlessly.

“…Cole was very lucky to have a father like you,” Connor murmured after a long moment.

Hank exhaled deeply. “…Hey, uh… Connor. What’re you… uh. I guess… Are you three plannin’ on sticking together after this?”

Connor blinked at the change of subject. “Oh. We hadn’t discussed it.”

“Oh. …Did you talk at all about what you’re gonna do next?”

“No.”

Hank snorted and shook his head. “Ain’t we a bunch. Okay. When your brothers get back we’ll talk.”

“Do you feel better now?” RK900 asked as they walked along a narrow trail.

“I… I do,” 60 said quietly. “I’m not as… sure of it as I’d like, but… it’s definitely better than it was.”

“That may take time, but… Hank likes having us around. I think we have time.”

“You don’t think Connor resents us, do you?”

The upgraded android glanced back at him. “No. Why, do you?”

“I – he doesn’t act like it, but… I might. If it were me.”

“He doesn’t seem jealous or resentful. I think he enjoys our company. …And we aren’t here to keep Hank from him, we’re just… here, and we’re all… part of this.” He paused. “Are you… jealous of him?”

“No.” 60 scowled. “…A little, maybe. I – he already has a relationship with Hank to build on, even if it wasn’t perfect. They have a history, and… that’s very important to Hank.”

“But you and I are already building quite a positive relationship with him,” RK900 pointed out gently. “Remember, Connor only worked with him for a few days.”

“It seems like longer,” 60 muttered.

“It does. But we can catch up. …Besides, we were both built on Connor’s basic programming, but we each have our own distinct personality. Hank’s expressed fondness for all three of us.”

60 sighed. “I know, I’m being irrational. I appreciate and care for both of you, and wouldn’t want to lose you. I do sometimes find myself wishing I was… the only one at times, though. Is that… horrible?”

“I think it’s quite common for middle children.” RK900 smirked briefly. “…Especially with the way Cyberlife prepared to pit you against Connor. But no, I don’t think it’s horrible. I think… you crave more than you’ve received, and hopefully the future will hold what you need.” He put a hand on 60’s shoulder.

“A – you think I’m a… middle child?”

“Well yes. Connor is obviously the oldest. I am the youngest. You are in the middle.”

“…Hm. I… I like that,” 60 murmured, looking out over the water. Then he suddenly grabbed RK900’s arm and pointed. “Look! Look, is that an alligator!?”

The sun had almost gone down by the time the other two returned.

“We saw alligators!” 60 exclaimed. “They’re not as big as I pictured –“

“Except the one on the bank,” RK900 added.

“Yes! There was one big one sleeping on the bank, and he was… oh, I think he could have swallowed at least two of us!”

Hank laughed. “Oh yeah?”

“And we saw a lot of deer on our way back,” RK900 said. “They prefer to feed around dusk and dawn.”

“And we passed a whole group of raccoons climbing into the dumpster at the front of the campground!” 60 continued.

“Mm, we’ll have to lock up all the food in the car,” Hank muttered, nodding.

“I – they weren’t supposed to be there, but I… wanted them to be there!” 60 said, leaning in.

“Yep, they’re pretty damn cute.” Hank chuckled. “Fucking menaces, but still cute.”

“We came back because we thought you’d be worried, but there’s so much out there,” RK900 said.

“…Yeah, probably better that way. There’s… I dunno, probably bears and cougars and shit too. …And Florida Man.”

“Hank, that’s just a meme,” Connor muttered.

“No no, Florida Man’s real,” Hank said decisively. “There’s all kinds of headlines about him.”

They searched for a moment.

“One man isn’t responsible for all that,” RK900 murmured.

“Nah, it’s more of like… the spirit of Florida Man possessing a bunch of different guys.” Hank grinned. “One of the sneakier cryptids.”

“Is that… true?” 60 asked.

“Doubtful,” RK900 muttered.

“Okay smartass. We’ve got plenty of shit to figure out, but… think it can wait til tomorrow?” Hank glanced over at Connor, who nodded. “…Stars are coming out.”

The four looked up at the night sky as the fire burned low, watching the stars appear.


	9. Future/Hugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three androids do some early-morning bonding. Connor has a moment, RK900 has been redecorating, and 60 shows some personal growth.  
> When Hank wakes up they talk about the future, get some important things out in the open, and end up right where they belong.

“I like sleeping,” 60 whispered when the three androids crept out of the tent in the morning. Hank was fast asleep, snoring loudly, and they tried not to wake him. “It’s relaxing.”

“I don’t think I’d want to do it all the time, though,” Connor said.

“Well no, obviously not…”

They set a new fire from the remains of last night’s charred wood, and paused to look up at the sky. It was pink and orange, with some hazy purple clouds stretched across it. Birds were calling, and there was a sheen of dew over everything. RK900 pointed across the campground at a deer stepping out of the woods. Then another. Four does of varying ages grazed quietly in an empty campsite.

“They’re very shy and skittish around humans,” RK900 murmured. “I wonder, if we stayed still all night, would they… notice us when they came out in the morning?”

“We still look human,” 60 pointed out.

They continued watching the deer until they retreated back into the trees. By then the sky was bright blue.

“I’ve never seen the sky this color before,” Connor murmured.

“It’s so gray in Detroit in the winter,” 60 agreed. “And Tennessee was cold and wet enough to be the same.”

“When the weather gets warmer… Detroit’s sky will look like this,” RK900 said softly. “And maybe we’ll end up somewhere warmer.”

“It’s… warmer in the summer,” Connor murmured distantly. “Warm and… and windy…”

He trailed off and 60 frowned, then squeezed his arm. 

“Get off the roof,” the younger android said. Connor jolted with a short burst of static.

“Connor?” RK900 stepped closer.

“I’m all right. I’m all right,” Connor breathed. “Just –“ He trailed off and shook his head.

RK900 hesitantly touched Connor’s arm, then lightly clasped it when he didn’t pull away. 60 did the same.

The graveyard was still a desert landscape, but the rest of the garden was now enormous live oaks with long branches snaking out, covered in smaller plants and trailing Spanish moss. There were Sabal palms and dwarf palmettos beneath them, and the little stream was now speckled with bright green duckweed. There were still a few tall pine trees here and there. In the center was a gigantic tree, the trunk wider than Hank’s car was long. It was gnarled and ancient and its limbs spread everywhere.

“That’s a look,” 60 murmured.

“I’m still experimenting with it.”

Connor exhaled sharply and looked around. “You even got… the humidity,” he murmured.

“It’s – I can see how it would get uncomfortable after a while, but it’s a bit like… a warm, heavy blanket. And I do like the sunlight, but I toned that down just a bit.”

“Is it better here?” 60 asked quietly.

“I – I don’t know how to… move on from the past. Is it even possible? Clearly Hank can’t. Are – do you two feel this as… acutely as I do?” Connor asked.

“I’m… not sure,” 60 said thoughtfully. “I remember it all pretty sharply, but… I don’t have your complete memory banks. It’s more… distant.”

“I have even less. It’s… duller for me, I’m sure,” 900 said. “Look at Hank, though. He’s clearly struggled, and he hasn’t fully recovered, but… he’s making some progress. I think it takes… time and support.”

“Even then, you don’t just… forget one day,” 60 added. “Besides, would you want to?”

“…No,” Connor murmured. “That would seem like… losing part of myself. Cheating, somehow. And a disservice to those I encountered.”

“I imagine once Markus works out his agreement with Congress, the androids who were… kept as evidence will be freed. Repaired. Given a fair trial if necessary. I believe they could all make a very strong case for either self-defense or extreme mental anguish.,” RK900 pointed out.

“Some of them didn’t do anything wrong at all… by any definition,” Connor sighed. “I… hope you’re right. I would absolutely testify for them, now that I understand their mindset better.”

“That would help,” 60 said decisively. “Doing something for them, to help them get their lives back.”

“I’ll have to stand trial for my crimes as well, of course,” Connor muttered.

The other two glanced at each other.

“…And the fact that you were a machine, and the extreme manipulation Cyberlife used against you, will surely be major points in that case,” RK900 pointed out.

“I’ll vouch for that,” 60 said. “You know Hank will too. We’ll be there with you, no matter what happens.”

Connor made a face. “You make it very hard to just… lose myself in helplessness,” he muttered, looking away.

60 laughed, wrapping an arm around him. “Of course we do! If we’re going to be family, that includes helping each other. Whether you want it or not.”

“It’s true,” RK900 agreed, clasping Connor’s other shoulder. “And do you really think Hank would let you face your future struggles alone? He wouldn’t appreciate you underestimating him that way.”

Connor was quiet for a moment, then his shoulders sagged. “I’m… trying to get used to that.” He tentatively leaned into them. “Thank you. I didn’t expect any of this, but… your support means everything to me.”

“You’d do the same for us,” RK900 stated matter-of-factly.

“You’ve been a great inspiration to me, you know,” 60 mumbled.

“To us both,” RK900 added.

Hank’s back was killing him when he woke up, so he stayed in his makeshift bed for a while. The tent was made for eight people, but that meant eight skinny people who were close friends. It was just about right for a big man and three big androids to have plenty of space to themselves, with enough room that they didn’t have to step on each other to get out. Driving for three days straight and then sleeping on the ground, even with an air mattress, didn’t make for a comfortable situation. He heard movement and quiet talking outside, and after a while started smelling food cooking.

Eventually he rolled on his side and pushed himself upright, groaning and hissing.

“Are you all right?” 60 was leaning in the doorway.

“Ah – hey Six. Just my fucking back. Don’t ever get old.”

60’s face lit up at the sound of the nickname, and he edged inside, ducking down a bit. “I – I won’t, we… Are – is there anything I can do?”

“Uh – guess I’d better get moving before it gets worse,” he muttered. “Gimme a hand.”

60 hurried over and helped him up, careful to move slowly and not pull too hard. Hank grunted and stretched, popping his back loudly.

“Shit, I’m not getting’ back in that car until I have to. You sleep okay?”

“Uh – we don’t… really have to, but I did enter stasis for a while, and it… it was peaceful.” He smiled brightly.

“That coffee I smell?”

“Yes! I think it’s better than my first attempt, I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“Well woodsmoke makes everything taste better…” They walked out to see Connor bent over a skillet, and RK900 feeding the fire.

“Good morning!” Connor called with a slight smile.

“Are you all right?” RK900 asked, straightening up. “Your posture is off.”

“Nngh. Yeah, my back’s just givin’ me trouble.”

The upgraded android paused, then walked over. “I’ve downloaded a chiropractic treatment program, I could adjust your spine if you like.”

Hank squinted up at his earnest face, the expression softening the cold blue eyes. “…If you break my back you’re gonna have to deal with my bitching, Jack Frost.”

“I can promise I won’t break your back.” He was behind Hank in an instant, and 60 stepped aside while strong arms suddenly pinned his arms to his sides. “Relax.” The android lifted, and Hank inhaled sharply at the sudden chain of pops. He was set back down gently, and RK900 began carefully guiding his head and shoulders around.

“How do you feel now?” RK900 asked when he stepped away.

“…Sore. Kinda… I dunno, like my bones aren’t as solid.” Hank shook his head carefully and blinked. “…Hell of a lot better, though. Thanks, big guy.”

RK900 beamed.

“Whatcha got cooking there, Connor?” Hank asked, making his way over to the fire.

“There’s… that frozen mix of potatoes, peppers, and onions we got… and an egg.”

“Smells great.” Bacon would have improved it, but he wasn’t about to bring that up when Connor seemed so pleased with himself. He sat down gingerly. “So, uh… I asked Connor last night, but… any of you got plans for when we’re done here?”

“Ah – no,” RK900 murmured.

“We – we should start… thinking about that, “ 60 said slowly, LED flashing yellow.

“Think you’ll stick together, at least?”

“Yes,” 60 said immediately, and Connor nodded hesitantly.

“We’re hoping to,” RK900 said.

“What about you, Hank?” Connor asked, scooping the contents of the skillet onto a plate and handing it to him.

“Mm, well, gotta go back for Sumo. I was kinda thinking of… fixing up the house to sell, if anybody’s buyin’ right now… though with androids bein’ people, maybe some of them might want it. It was always supposed to be a family home. Then… well, might be time for an early retirement. Figure that’ll last a month, tops. Then I’ll need to find something else to do with my life. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

“Are you planning on leaving Detroit?” RK900 asked.

“Thinkin’ about it. Most of my friends are there – Jeffrey, Ben…” He took a bite and chewed slowly. “…Guess it’ll depend on where you three end up.”

He took another bite and glanced around. The androids were all staring at him with laser-focus. 

Hank took a swig of coffee to wash down the mouthful. “Mm, you’re really getting’ the hang of this, Six.”

“Are – could we go with you, Hank?” RK900 asked finally.

“…Sorry, I’m givin’ you boys a hard time,” Hank muttered, shaking his head. “Course you’re comin’ with me. As long as you want to.”

“O-of course!” 60 stammered. “We want to!”

“We’d better figure something out then, huh?” Hank flashed them a lopsided smile. “We’ve got some time, though. I dunno about you, but I’m ready to stretch my legs and look around.”

The four walked along a path that wound its way through the swampy woods. There were palms and pine trees, and all kinds of other plant life. At first Hank kept slapping and cursing at the mosquitoes, but after a minute he noticed that they’d stopped biting and Connor was emitting a low hum.

“…What’re you doing?”

“Turns out I have an anti-mosquito protocol.” Connor laughed. “Who knew?”

“Do you all have that?”

“60 does, but I doubt they thought RK900 would need it.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Freeze.” Hank patted RK900. “There’s still plenty you can do. You think about a name yet?

“Not really,” RK900 murmured.

“Something to do with cold?” 60 piped up.

“…I don’t want to be associated with cold,” the tall android mumbled.

“Aw, hey.” Hank turned to loop an arm around his shoulders. “Look, you’ve gotta tell me if I’m doin’ something you don’t like. I’ll shut that shit down right away, and you call me on it if I don’t, okay?”

“It’s not… offensive,” RK900 muttered. “And I know your intentions are good.”

“Still. I didn’t know, but now I do, and I’ll cut it out. All you had to do was tell me. Don’t worry about it, son.”

RK900 stopped dead in his tracks, pine needles crunching softly under his shoes, and 60 missed a step. Hank stopped, and Connor did too.

“I, uh… look, I’m not gonna have a repeat – two repeats of what I said to Connor last night, so… it just slips out sometimes, but that don’t mean it ain’t true. Just feels… right, I guess. I dunno.” Hank scratched his beard. “If it’s okay with you guys…”

“It’s… it’s not…” 60 stammered.

“That’s fine, then,” Hank interrupted. “No problem.”

“N-no, I meant – what about… Cole?”

“Got nothin’ to do with Cole,” Hank murmured. “Nobody could replace him. You’re each your own separate person, and I wouldn’t change that for anything.” He paused, frowning at a few huge pinecones sitting by the side of the trail. “Uh. You kids – now that you’re free, and… and people. Legally, pretty soon. Ever think about… takin’ a last name?”

“Ah – I haven’t,” RK900 said slowly.

“There’s so much involved in… deviancy and personhood,” 60 sighed. “It’s – I mean, I’m glad. I suppose it’s worth it.”

“I… might have thought about it a little,” Connor murmured, watching Hank.

“Yeah, well. I was just thinking, if you… if you three wanted to be… Andersons, that’d be okay… I dunno, I thought it’d be… pretty damn great. I understand if –“

“Are you being serious!?” 60 screeched. “I – Hank, you can’t joke about this, you – really?”

“Really?” Connor breathed.

RK900 just watched, still as a statue.

“Well yeah – I know I’m full of shit, but that ain’t something I’d joke about.”

“Yes,” Connor said immediately.

“Yes please,” RK900 added quickly.

“You – you mean it?” 60 asked, his voice crackling into static. “All of us?”

“I’m talkin’ to all three of you, ain’t I?” Hank grumbled, grabbing 60 and Connor and pulling them in, and motioning for RK900 to join them. “All of you, c’mon Nines.”

“Really?” 60 whispered, hugging the others tightly.

“Really, Six.” Hank patted his back. “Might take a while to get things legal, I dunno what kinda hoops we’ll have to jump through. We’ll do it, though.”

“Now all that’s missing is Sumo,” Connor sighed happily.

“Can you imagine him here?” Hank laughed, shaking his head. “He’d pass out from heat stroke, with all that hair of his. Surprised I haven’t done the same, I’m sweatin’ like a dog!”

“Dogs actually only sweat on their paw pads,” Connor pointed out helpfully.

“Good thing. …You okay, big guy?” Hank squeezed RK900’s arm.

“Yes.” The tall android smiled warmly. “This… this is exactly what I wanted. I didn’t even know at the time, but… this was my goal. This is… where we should be.”

“I don’t know about staying here,” 60 muttered. “It’s a good place to visit, but…”

“Nah.” Hank grinned. “Together, us, just… me and my boys. That’s a good place to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! This didn't really follow the theme of the event I started it for at all, but I've really enjoyed it nonetheless. These guys all need a tight-knit family to come home to, and I will make sure they get it.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an old thought of mine that RK900 is haunted by all the past Connors. Tentative update schedule: Mondays and Thursdays. Please, share your thoughts!
> 
> Find me on tumblr, at [Anomalous Appliances](http://anomalous-appliances.tumblr.com)!


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